A Worthless Nobody: Deym's Story
by RockOnRose
Summary: All I knew was it was easier to run." ---read "a worthless nobody" before you read this. Deym's story. rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

**now, get ready Kazoo-ers cause this is the moment you've all been waiting for! -drumroll- A WORTHLESS NOBODY:: DEYM'S STORY!  
YES! it is HERE! enjoy!**  
This is kind of the sequal to **A Worthless Nobody**. So, if you havent read that, i suggest you go read that first. Because this focuses on Deym, who in my other story is Demyx's other.  
and guys, **this chapter is really violent**. so... sorry for that. i would tell you that the next chapter wont be as violent, but then i'd be a liar. Deym has a sad story  
**And this is Deym's life. So, it starts from when Deym is Nine years old and goes through everything up to A Worthless Nobody.**

with that, **read and review!  
**i hope you like it! (though it's a REALLY sad chapter.)

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_It's easier to run  
Replacing this pain with something numb  
It's so much easier to go  
Than face all this pain here all alone_

_Sometimes I remember  
The darkness of my past  
Bringing back these memories  
I wish I didn't have  
Sometimes I think of letting go  
And never looking back  
And never moving forward so  
There would never be a past_

_-Easier to Run by Linkin Park_

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**Chapter 1  
Run**

I looked up, but saw no trace of the sky I knew. I searched for the spacious blue that painted the heavens, searched for a fragment of a silver lining, searched for even the smallest glimpse of the sunlight, but found nothing but darkness. As I stood, frozen in place, I watched the sky turn darker and darker. I searched for the light, but it was too far gone to give anyone any sign of hope.

_Move. _I told myself sharply, _Move! Leave this place! Find the light! Hurry! Before it's gone!_

I obeyed.

I ran.

The darkness only grew with every step.

My head down, I kept my feet moving. My hair long hair flopped in my face, fragments of my brown hair with natural golden highlights flashed in font of the vision I had of my bare feet scraping the pavement as I ran. I ignored all the jagged rocks my feet scuffed over as I ran from the black sky. I couldn't even feel the pain. The only thing that told me I was scraping my feet was the pools of blood I left behind my weak feet.

_Just keep running._

I finally reached the family's store. We owned a store in town and my dad was working today. I pushed the wide door open, a happy chime signaled my entrance.

"Dad—" I started but froze mid sentence. My eyes widened and my breath stopped all together. The chime's tune turned sour as it reached an end.

I blinked several times to make sure I was seeing everything correctly. For a second, I thought it was my imagination—but even my imagination, crazy as it was, couldn't think up something like _this_.

My dad. Thrown into the wall of his store, debris from the store shelf spewed around him from the impact. Red paint—I later realized was blood—splattered the pearly floor and pooled around his head.

"Deym?" his voice was hoarse and weak, "I-is that you?"

I didn't speak. I couldn't.

"Who is this?"

I jumped when a new voice entered the scene. If I was only more observant, I would have noticed the big dark man standing only a yard away from my dad's limp body. The figure had piercing yellow eyes. His eyes stared straight at me, cutting through my existence. I shivered violently, involuntarily.

_Those eyes! _

They would forever be etched into my brain. His piercing, unforgiving eyes! They weren't a bright yellow. Not a gold, not a sun, not even a dead dandelion. They were a pale, lifeless yellow. The only thing animating them was the slow, sluggish movement of shifting.

"Deym!" My dad croaked again, "Run!"

"Your son?" The dark figure asked.

My feet were frozen.

_Run! Dad wants me to run. _

"Is this your daddy?" The man pointed a jagged, boney finger at my dad.

I nodded—again, involuntarily.

"Do you love your daddy?"

Involuntary nod.

"I was told it was your birthday," the man eyes a card sitting on the cashier counter, "How old are you?" it was a rhetorical question. He snatched up the card and ripped it open, "Nine years old today? You're getting old, "Are you curious to see what your daddy got you for your birthday?"

Frozen.

"Come on, you must care about your daddy's gift," the figure put his pale finger up to his chin as if he were in thought, "Unless… you don't love your daddy?"

"I do! I do!"

It took me a second to realize the sharp scream came from me.

"I do love my daddy!"

"Aw," he held his arm out and a short dagger appeared in his hand, "That's too bad. This would be easier if you didn't. You see, your daddy made you a knife. It says 'to my little musician. Keep to the beat'. How precious. A beautiful father-son moment. Or, it _could _have been…"

With one swift motion, the wicked man hurled the dagger through the chest of my father.

I winced at the sudden cry of pain from my dad's lips, but kept my eyes wide as I watched the evil man.

_Why._

The chimes sounded another entrance, their sound hitting another sour note.

"Deym!" the voice gasped.

It was Marik. My brother. I recognized his voice as soon as it reached my ears.

I could feel Marik swallow a lump in his throat as he saw what was before him.

"Monster," Marik whispered at the man. Then his voice grew, "Monster." Louder with every word until he was screaming, "Monster! Monster! MONSTER!"

I made myself turn to look at Marik. His eyes were fixed on dad. Tears streaming down his face.

"Aw, how sweet," the man bellowed, "A family reunion. Too late kid, you're only in time for the funeral."

"Deym, run," Marik whispered to me.

I stared at him, blankly.

"Do you hear me?" He raised his voice, "Run! Get out of here, okay?"

I shifted my feet backwards toward the door. My feet slid against the floor leaving a wide streak of blood behind them. I could feel the skin ripping, but I could barely move, let alone pick up my feet.

"Deym! Run now!" Marik pleaded, "I'm not losing you too!"

_Marik. You're only a year older than I. What can you do? You can't stop this man…_

I turned away from my brother and pushed through the wide door. I, again, kept my eyes down. I lost my balance a few times. I usually ran to a beat. I ran in a rhythm. But today I had no rhythm, I didn't have anything.

"_Keep to the beat"_

My dad always told me that.

_Keep to the beat, and your heart will always find strength. You've been given a gift. Your music. Keep to the beat, keep to your heart._

_My heart… _

I ran to the beat of my heart.

I wasn't sure how long I ran, all I knew was I went through a river—my body now soaked from the neck down—I had went through a cornfield—my hair now matted with debris—I had squeezed myself under a rusted fence—my shirt torn to prove it.

All I knew was it was easier to run.

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AWWWW! poor deym... T-T

WHY AM I SUCH A MEAN PERSON! HOW CAN I PUT DEYM THOUGH THAT?!

**alright... rant over. review please!**


	2. Chapter 2

next chapter yay! this one is kind of boring at the begining, but the end is important! i hope you like it and the next chapter should be better!  
read and review please. :D

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_It starts with pain  
Followed by hate  
Fueled by the endless questions  
No one can answer  
A stain covers your heart  
Tears you apart just like a sleeping cancer_

_...An innocent child with a thorn in his heart..._

_What kind of world to we live in  
Where love is divided by hate  
Losing control of our feelings  
We all must be dreaming this life away  
In a world so cold_

-Song: World So Cold by 12 Stones

**

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**

**Chapter 2  
You're Lost**

I stopped.

My breathing was hard, and my lungs were having trouble keeping up. I placed my hands on my knees, bracing myself. I felt like I would faint at any given time. My vision began to blur and spin. I stumbled from side to side, struggling to find balance. I tried to shake it off and control my breathing, but it wasn't working.

Finally, my knees collapsed and I was on the ground. I tried to stand several times, but failed over and over. Each time hitting the ground harder than the time before. I gave up and put my head down on the ground and stared up at the dark sky.

I couldn't tell if the darkness in the sky was spinning or it was just my own weakness. Maybe it was both. I laid there for a long while just watching the sky. Droplets of water fell and pelted my face. Slow at first, but then growing fiercer into a downpour. I welcomed the rain. It was a soothing coolness that I needed.

I wasn't sure when I stopped watching the sky and started staring into black unconsciousness. They were both too similar to know the difference.

* * *

"Deym," a thin hand wiped my golden hair from my face and I blinked my eyes open.

"Mom?" I mumbled as I woke up.

"Hi sweetie," she smiled softly at me.

I jolted upright, but fell back against the couch when my head started spinning, "Marik," I breathed.

"He's here," my mom informed and Marik peeked over her shoulder.

"Good," I breathed then frowned, "Dad…"

"I know," my mother closed her eyes slowly, "I know, I know."

I sat up, slowly this time. My mom was explaining things to me. She didn't explain the darkness or why that evil man wanted to hurt dad. But she did explain that it was important we leave. She told me not to pack much and if I could avoid packing anything.

I went to my room and tore off my torn shirt and replaced it with a fresh black one. I pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and tied on my shoes. I knew I'd be running and I needed protection so I didn't hurt my feet more than they already were. Though, I wasn't sure how much protection my feet would have with the sole of a converse shoe. Last, I draped a black cloak over my shoulders. It came together with a silver clasp at the neck and draped over my body. The front was open and flowed to the floor. It was too long, but I would eventually grow into it. The cloak whipped behind me like a cape as I ran through the house.

"Let's go," Marik whispered and motioned for me to follow as Mom got a few last things from the house. I followed him into the garage where my dad worked, "Pick a weapon," Marik told me a pointed to a shelf where Dad had kept all the weapons he had made, "Dad said these weapons had special properties," Marik informed, "He told me that a weapon is made for it's holder and that one day you and I would hold the weapons that were chosen for us."

"I don't understand," I told him as I stared at the swords and shields.

"You don't have to," Marik decided, "You just need to pick a weapon. We need to be able to protect ourselves. All those years of watching Dad practice with these weapons are about to pay off. This is real Deym. Our lives could be taken tonight."

I realized the truth in my brother's words and I watched as he picked up a weapon. Bladed Tonfas. He held the handle awkwardly as he tried to get the feel of the weapon. He held them tightly to himself with the blades pointing out in the offensive position.

With a flash of light, the Tonfas disappeared from Marik's hand.

"What happened?" I asked as Marik stared at his empty hands.

"I don't—" Marik began but was cut off when the light signaled the return of the weapon.

The bladed Tonfas appeared in my hands. I clenched my hands into fists around the handles and the blade curved to my forearm. The defensive position. The Tonfas had a blue tint to the blade with a water inscription on the blade. I knew this weapon was mine.

I smiled and tested the weight of the Tonfas. I loosened my grip and let the handles slide, the weight of the blades pulling itself into the offensive position. The blades pointed out and I jabbed at the air in front of me. I quickly flipped the handles back around to the defensive position. I was amazed at how the blade seemed to be made for me. The long slender blade curved to my forearm and a dual blade over the initial blade curved perfectly to the other.

Marik held out his hand and waited. Seconds later, a light surrounded his hands, revealing the weapon made for him. A set of katars. He placed one in each hand and practiced jabbing with the weapon, acting as if the katar was an extension of himself.

* * *

"Come on," Mom signaled and we all went out the back door. She led us through the city. She took back ally ways and reminded us to use light feet and to stay quiet. Though I wasn't sure what was going on, I obeyed.

"We'll stop here," Mom dropped her bag on the ground and slipped down to sit. We had traveled for miles. I couldn't tell the time because the darkness still loomed in the sky. I started to wonder if we would ever get away. We had taken shelter under a rock formation. Two large boulders wedged together made a small covering that was well hidden. Tired of the darkened sky, I followed into the rock formation. I sat on the ground in front of my mom. I laid down and used one of mom's legs as a pillow. Marik did the same.

"How long will we run?" I asked with a yawn.

"I'm not sure, sweetie," she answered softly.

"Stay safe," Marik mumbled to us both before he drifted off to sleep.

I closed my eyes, but I knew sleep wouldn't come easily.

* * *

"Come with me," the voice whispered.

I winced at the voice. It was the man with the haunting eyes. It was him. It had to be him. I hated him.

I sat up and squinted out through the rain and saw the sinister figure holding out a bony hand, "Come. I can show you how to get anything your heart desires. I can show you how to grow in your strength and technique. I can give you everything. Come with me and surrender to the darkness." He chanted with a devious smirk.

I squinted harder trying to see who the man was talking to. His evil eyes didn't focus on me, but another figure standing only feet away from him.

Marik…

Without warning, my Tonfas were summoned. I was on my feet in seconds and I ran out into the rain. Marik reached for the man's jagged hand. He didn't even hesitate.

"Get away," I ordered in a weak voice and stood between the man and Marik.

"No, Deym," Marik told me.

I looked at him, wide eyed, "What do you mean?"

"Your brother is going to come with me," the man spoke, "He is going to follow in my footsteps and become all that he can be."

"I will not follow in your footsteps," Marik growled, "but I will learn from you."

The man laughed darkly, "Good boy."

"Marik," I pleaded, "This isn't right."

Marik's eyes softened for a second. Then he looked to the man, and as if the man already had possession over Marik, Marik's eyes turned hard.

"No, Deym. This is what I want. I can't keep hiding in the 'light'. I have to fight back and this wimpy light isn't getting me anywhere. I won't get lost in the darkness, I'll come back. I will be everything I can be and then come back to save you."

"Even though you think this is right, you've never been more wrong," I whispered, my heart slowly breaking. I knew I couldn't change his mind, "I can understand why you think this is the only way. You have been through more in the past few days than many have been through in a lifetime. I know you tried to hide it, but I could hear you cry at night. I could hear what you said. So many people you know have left you alone. Your friends have deserted you, you feel like an outcast, and now Dad is gone. I haven't always understood what you go through, but I'm begining to. I want to help you, but I can't help you if you won't let me."

"This isnt about you," Marik snapped, "My friends were never dear to me. I don't care if they left. And i saw what happened to our town. Everyone is gone, Deym. There was so much destruction and ruin. And it's all his fault," Marik pointed at the man, "He is offering me lessons. I can fight this. I can bring back revenge on our family. I can make everything better for us."

"This isn't the way to restore whats been broken. You're lost, Marik. You are so lost in the darkness and you don't even see this. It hurts me, and hurts mom, and it hurts dad. He never wanted you to be like that man. You're being torn apart by the fighting within yourself. You've always been fighting. You think you're acting out of love by trying to claim revenge. But all you are showing is hate. You are... hurting me."

Marik clamped his eyes closed, "I don't care. I will no longer be held back by you or anyone else. I don't need you anymore."

I swallowed hard, "So that's it then? You're giving your life to this man, to the darkness, and never looking back?"

"Yes." there was no hesitation.

Something told me that I had missed my entrance. I should have been awake and stopping this minutes ago, but I had slept through it. Now, my brother was going to give in to the darkness. The same darkness that our parents had fought to keep us from. Now I understood.

"Marik," I tried again, "Don't do this. He can't give you what you need. He can't bring dad back. You can't bring dad back."

"Shut up!" Marik screamed at me. He had never screamed at me before and it pierced my heart, "You don't know that! You don't know what I can do!"

Something had changed in Marik. I wasn't sure when it happened, maybe it had been happening and now he finally snapped. He wasn't the protective older brother I once had admired. He wasn't Marik anymore.

Now he was trying to turn into a manipulative dictator. He was trying to bring back things that couldn't be touched. He was trying to do what he thought was right, but in the end he would only see it as a wrong. Maybe he knew it was wrong, but wanted it more than what was right. Whatever it was, I knew I had to fight it.

_

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_

**_review please :D_**


	3. Chapter 3

oh. it looks like i forgot a **disclaimer**. though i havent used much that isnt mine, i still would like to say that all Kingdom Hearts related things do NOT belong to me. The only thing that is mine are the characters Deym and Marik and some of the unimportant people.  
**Hey. third chapter! that's exciting! look how fast i am updating! arent you happy! i know i am! :D**  
**Read and Review please!**

How could I let myself fall into your lies?  
I only trusted you with all of my life  
Now I am stuck here, I'm trapped under ice  
The only way out is  
for me not to ask why

These broken hearts  
Are left with scars  
Because of your lies  
And all this time  
It feels like I'm  
Chasing shadows at midnight

_-Chasing Shadows at Midnight_ by_ Pillar_

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**Chapter 3  
That's What I Thought**

I knew there was no reasoning with Marik, but I had to fight this somehow. I tightened the grip on my Tonfas and turned back to the evil man.

"I won't let you take him," I told him through clenched teeth.

He couldn't keep back a rude laugh, "You stop me? If your father couldn't beat me what makes you think that _you _could?"

"I never said I thought I'd win. I just said I wasn't giving up," I corrected and flipped my Tonfas into the offensive position.

"Alright child, whatever you say," the man sighed and summoned a black blade, "But I've never fought a person quite so… short." He settled.

"I've never fought anyone at all," I compromised.

He laughed, "I like you, kid." I shuttered.

He launched himself at me, flipped his blade around so the handle butted into my stomach. I stumbled backwards, amazed that someone who looked so old could be so fast. But he wasn't faster than me.

He flipped his blade back around, trying to hit me once more on the backswing. I jumped backwards, mirroring the maneuvers I had watched my dad practice in the garage. The only difference was I was faster than my dad. I jogged backwards away from him and twirled my weapons into the defensive position and placed them up around my chest.

He smirked, "You're fast. But the thing is, I've faced faster. You have good reflexes. But I have better. And speed isn't everything."

He pulled his blade over his shoulder and whispered something in a low voice. He repeated it over and over until his blade began glowing with darkness.

He screamed his spell once more and hurled his blade through the air. I ducked under the blade and it whizzed past my face. I jolted back upright and stared at him in horror. He had skill and practice. Something I didn't have.

"Keep your eyes on target," he warned, holding out his pointer finger as if telling a child 'naughty, naughty'.

I pulled my eyebrows down in confusion. Eyes on the target? He _was_ my target!

Then I understood.

Much too late, I whipped around. I saw the blade on a backspin and it flew through the air back toward me. I yanked my Tonfas up in front of my face in attempt to block, but the blade was much too strong and coming much too fast. The block didn't protect anything.

The blade pierced through my side and sent me flying backwards. I fell limp in the mud and I lost the grip on my weapons. I held my hands against my side where his blade had pierced through my side. There was a steady flow of blood, so I tried to hold myself together. I could feel the hot liquid pulse through the opening and slip through my fingers. Though I pressed my hands tighter, nothing stopped the murky mud around me from slowly adding shades of red to its color.

"Sorry, kid," he summoned his blade back to his hand, "Better luck next time."

He placed a flimsy arm around Marik's shoulder and before I could see what happened, they were both gone.

"Deym!" my mother's voice interrupted my thoughts. She was at my side in seconds, taking my hands from the sticky mess of blood and tending to my wound.

"Marik…" I whispered, letting silent tears fall down my face.

"I know, I know," she whispered and with one hand ran her fingers through my matted hair.

My eyes narrowed, "You… _know_?" I repeated in disbelief.

She nodded slowly, "I was watching."

I snapped my head around to stare at her. My eyes wide in furry, "You know!" I repeated, this time letting the rage slip out through my tone.

"Deym," she ordered, "Stop moving. Do you want to bleed to death?"

I ripped myself away from her touch and got to my feet. I held my side and backed away from her, "You just stood there!" I screamed, "You saw the whole thing and you just stood there!"

"Deym, it's not like that," she told me.

"You let this happen! You let him take Marik!" I yelled.

She was at my side in a second, and a wide hand smacked across my face, "Don't you dare talk like that!"

I stared at the ground, not moving from where the impact of her slap had left me, "Don't pretend like you couldn't have done anything," I whispered, "Don't pretend like you don't know how to fight. You would practice with dad. After you thought Marik and I were both asleep, Dad would teach you how to fight. Don't even pretend like you couldn't do _anything_. Don't even pretend like you couldn't have_ tried_."

"I've always known Marik would struggle with light and dark," She struggled to keep her voice down.

"So that changes everything?" I looked back at her, "How can you say that?"

"Because I know my place," she said crossly, "I know where_ I_ stand. Marik's choices are his own."

"Why do you keep saying that? Do you think that justifies you? You didn't even try! I knew I wouldn't win, but I still didn't give up! You should have been out there," I pointed furiously toward where the battle had taken place, "You should have been protecting him like a _mother_!"

Her eyes showed how I had hurt her, "Deym," she whispered, "Please, try to understand. Something like this isn't changed easily. If I fought, how would the outcome be any different? Marik would still have been gone."

"It doesn't matter!" I raised my voice again, "You _gave up_ on him!"

"As long as my son lives, I will never give up on him," she told me firmly.

"So standing aside as the darkness inside him tries to take over isn't giving up on him?" I argued.

"You should learn your place," she told me as if it were an order.

"I did something!" I let out all that was built up inside me, "And do you want to know why I did something? Because when Dad was killed right in front I me, I did nothing! I stood there! I just stood there and watched as that man killed my father with my knife! Do you think I'd repeat the same mistake with Marik? I would rather die than just sit there and watch the things most important to me slip away! I won't make this mistake twice. I swear I won't. I am so tired of backing down all the time!" I stopped my breathing and prepared myself for what I knew I would say, "Why won't you do the same? Why do you watch the things most important to you slip away? I'm about to run," I told her straight out, "I will run away from here. Are you going to just stand here and watch me run? Or do you care enough about me to come after me?"

I stood there for a second and watched her expression. She slowly closed her eyes and tears slowly sipped down her face. That was enough.

"That's what I thought," I whispered and turned from her.

Then a second thought came into my mind. _Why?_  
Why would she sit there? "Fate" didnt control her. Why would she let this happen?

Then I didn't care anymore.

Without a second look back, I began sprinting. I kept my feet moving as fast as possible, ignoring the blood that was still flowing from my open wound and trying to ignore the tears that slipped down my face. I kept on running, faster and faster, further and further. Only this time, I had no one to run to.

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sadness...

**review please :D**

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	4. Chapter 4

_sorry. things have been really busy and stuff. i'm sure you all understand. thank you for your patience.  
disclaimer: i dont own anything KH related.

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I take a walk in the bitter cold,  
I try to see your face,  
The way it used to be,  
The sky was never grey,  
There was a time when I let you in,  
You turned my night to day,  
But I turned you away_

_I have tasted the apathy,  
It's bitter on my lips,  
I am not who I used to be,  
Betrayal with a kiss,  
Open mouth for the prodigal,  
You kept the flame alive,  
You keep this flame alive…_

_-Burn Back the Sun by Decyfer Down_

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**Chapter 4  
Nightmares and Anger**

_I stood by the shore and breathed it all in. I loved it all. The sound of the waves crashing, the music the sand made as it slow shifted beneath my toes, the smell of the salty air, and the warmth of the sun that glistened off the water's glassy surface._

_But I think my absolute favorite part was that we were all there together. Marik always standing beside me and building sand castles, my dad teaching me to surf, and my mom showing me how to find the best shells. That was the best part. _

_* * * * *_

"_As long as we're all together," I would exclaim, "I don't care where we go!"_

_My smile was never painted. It was always genuine and so wide my mouth hurt. I was always happy, and I always showed it._

"_I'm gonna get you!" Dad laughed as he faked a threat._

"_No!" I giggled and ran away from the 'Tickle Monster'._

"_Yes I am!" Dad insisted, stretching out his hand that made the 'Tickle Monster'._

_I burst into laughter as Dad's hand tickled my stomach. He trapped me in a bear hug and flung me up over his shoulder._

"_I've got you now!" he teased and spun around in quick circles. A loud fit of laughter escaped my lips as I felt like I was flying. _

_He laid my in the soft grass and stretched up, popping his back, "I'm getting old," he mumbled to himself._

_I looked over and saw Marik sitting against a tree, just watching. I skipped over to him and pulled on the sleeve on his shirt._

"_Marik," I tugged, "Do you wanna come play?"_

"_Uh," He stuttered, "I don't think so…"_

"_Please?" I insisted. I crouched down so I could peek at him under his long blonde hair, "Come on."_

_I had seen Marik at recess. He never played with any of the other kids. He just sat by himself and watched everyone else around him. I didn't understand why no one would play with him—he was the best person I knew._

"_No one else ever wants to play with me… Why would you?" He asked, serious._

"_Because," I smiled wide, "It's more fun with you."_

_Marik looked up at me, shocked. He had never thought anyone had cared, but here I showed him how much I wanted him around. _

"_Come on," I tugged his sleeve again._

_This time, he let me pull him to his feet. He followed me over to where dad was standing._

"_Nice job, kiddo," Dad whispered and ruffled my spiked hair. Obviously he had seen how alone Marik was too. _

"_Ready?" I asked._

"_How… do I play?" Marik's eyebrows pulled down in confusion._

"_We run and Daddy tries to tickle us," I explained, "Let's go!" I kept hold of his sleeve and pulled him with me as I started running._

_Eventually, after my words of encouragement and Dad's playful attitude, he began playing the game. He was a year older so his stride was bigger and faster than mine. Whenever he would start getting ahead, he would stop and wait for me to catch up. All smiles, he would encourage me when I got behind, "Come on, Deym! Hurry! Daddy's gonna get you!"_

_I would speed up and then he would run at my side. When we were both short of breath, we started slowing down. Dad came up behind us both and tickled us—one hand on each tummy. _

"_I got you!" he called and picked us both up, Marik under one arm and me under the other. _

"_Oh no!" I giggled._

"_He got us!" Marik agreed with a laugh._

_He spun us both around, laughing all the while. He then fell into the soft grass and we all fell into a fit of laughter._

"_Deym," Marik whispered, "…Thank you."_

_* * * * * _

I snapped awake and a cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck. This wasn't the first time I had woken up screaming. It happened every night, several times. I couldn't stay asleep for even an hour without finding myself jolting awake.

Sometimes the dreams varied. Some were nightmares about "that man" and Marik. Some dreams played back my dad's life being taken right in front of me. Some reminded me of my mother sitting and watching it all fall apart. Some were just my life being taken in disgusting, painful ways. All of them were new to me. I had never had dreams like this before…

Before… Before this. Before darkness. How much had I changed within this little time? I couldn't have been on my own for more than a few months… I had let my hair get much longer than I ever had in my life. It fell in my face all the time and I no longer wasted time to wipe it out of my eyes. My overall appearance was darker. My heart had never felt this kind of betrayal by people so close to me. My heart wasn't strong enough to bring me through this pain.

My jeans had been starting to feel bigger and I tightened my belt. How much food had I eaten this week? I couldn't remember eating at all, but I didn't feel hungry. I just felt empty. And angry. And lost.

"Who are you?"

A familiar voice called out to me and I recognized it quickly. My Tonfas were in my hand and I shot a quick 360.

_That Man._

I had been practicing. If it was a fight he wanted, it wouldn't be as easy as last time.

"Don't you know the answer?" The voice whispered, "Who are you?"

"I'm… I…" I started to answer, then stopped.

"You don't know?" the voice mocked.

"…I used to," I admitted. Who had I become? I wasn't the same as I was before. I was… mad, "I've never felt like I do now…" I admitted.

"Haven't you?" The voice prodded, "You've never fought with the darkness before?"

"I've never had to," I confided, "I've always been happy. I'm so angry and I don't even understand why…"

"Are you mad at me? Or Marik? Or your mother, perhaps?" the voice dug into my chest and ripped my heart at.

"I… I hate you for breaking my family," I screamed, "It's your fault! It's all your fault!"

"Is it?" he asked.

"N-no…" I answered, letting my weapons fall to my side, "I-it's not. You may have killed my father… but it wasn't you who held my mom back from helping me. She abandoned me. But I'm not angry at her, only disappointed. Marik left but I'm not mad at him either. It's all just disappointment," I thought out loud and my voice turned into a scream, "If it's only disappointment, then why am I so angry?" Tears flooded my vision, "I can't understand it. I'm so mad I can't even stand it!"

"Maybe I can help…" he suggested.

"I'm not like Marik," I whispered, then my voice turned rough, "You cant take me!"

The man gave up his hiding position and appeared so we could talk face-to-face.

"You're not mad at me… or Marik… or your mom…" He placed a bony finger on his chin in thought, "Then who are you mad at?"

"I-I don't know," I admitted, "I just… I want to…"

"Be stronger?" He proposed, "Be in control of your life and your feelings? You want to give in to your feelings of anger and hate and let yourself decide how your life will unfold."

"No. I don't want your help," I told him through clenched teeth, "I don't want to be power hungry like you. I don't want to be a monster like you."

He smirked, "Do you think your words can hurt me?" He chuckled a dark laugh, "My boy, I've been called far worse things than what your 10-year-old vocabulary can handle."

"Ten?" I repeated what age he said I was. I couldn't have been out here for a year. No way. Not that long…

"Yes," He nodded, "I didn't forget your birthday. You've been ten for a week now."

"A year?" I repeated, "A whole year?"

He nodded.

"And no one even cared. I knew mom was going to leave but… Marik? He promised he'd never leave me… He told me he'd come back to me…" Wait. He was trying to trick me. He wanted me to go with him, "LIAR!" I screamed at him, "Leave me alone and get out of my head! I don't want anything you have to offer!"

"If you hate how you feel and hate everything you've lost and hate everything in this world, then why are you still living?" He asked, and seemed truly curious, "What keeps the flame in your heart lit?"

"None of your business," I snapped.

"Really?" he looked at me strangely. And I knew he knew my answer. And indeed, my answer was his business.

"Marik…" I whispered, "He's my brother and best friend. And I don't think I've lost him yet. He's what keeps me alive. He's what keeps my heart burning!" I raised my voice, "I'm not going to fall under your spell. I'm never going to fall in line, so don't even bother wasting your time."

I summoned my Tonfas and flipped them into the offensive position. He looked at me but didn't draw his weapon. I lunged at him and dug my blade into his side. I let the blade cut him deep then jerked myself back to prepare for any maneuvers I'd have to do. But nothing came.

The man just stood there, breathing hard and taking the hit.

"Won't you fight?" I questioned.

He shook his head and talked in a tired, raspy voice, "No. I'm afraid I've passed all my power onto Marik. Though I'm not sure if he is putting it to good use… I'm old. I can't even remember how to fight, it's been so long. Kill me if you wish."

With that, I lunged. I knocked him to the ground so his head beat hard against the rocky ground. I placed my blade over his jugular and braced myself for my final attack. I held pressure, almost breaking the skin, but keeping him alive for a few more seconds.

"Are you sure you want to kill the only one who can take you to Marik?" he raped.

I jumped back hard and fast, falling on my knees yards away. I couldn't find my breath. My eyes widened and vision blurred as tears began rimming my eyes.

"Mar…ik…" I repeated, slow and soft.

The man used all the strength he had to pull himself up to his feet. He nodded, "Yes. He's alive. And, I must admit, I don't think he's happy. I believe he is… angry without reason. Much like you. Maybe you two are one of the same."

"Take me to him," I blurted. I didn't have control over my mouth, "Take me to him now."

The man gave an evil smirk, nodded, and created a large portal. He held out a hand to me and put one foot through the dark opening. I took small steps at first, but my stride grew as I thought of what would be on the other side.

Marik would be there. And maybe, just maybe, my brother needed me as much as I needed him.

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**review please. :D**


	5. Chapter 5

_update again. enjoy!_**

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**_I woke from my deep sleep,  
to end the mysery,  
I found you lying outside of my door,  
I tried to wake you up,  
to shake you up,  
found out you were dead_

_Like a leaf in the wind  
You left me standing alone  
to face the demons in my head_

_-Fiction _by_ Kids in the Way_  


* * *

**Chapter 5  
Don't Go... Not Now...**

On the other side of the darkness, what I saw filled me with relief as well and stabbed my heart.

Marik's long golden hair was now dyed a deep charcoal with dull red tips at the longest points and bangs. It hung over his pale, bruised face and a broken sword laid across his lap. He was sitting on the stone floor, his hands held high above his head on account of he was confined in chains.

This was torture no eleven year old should have to face.

He stirred and slowly looked up, his eyes black. When he looked straight into my eyes, it felt as if he saw straight through my anger façade and peered into my true jumbled emotions: fear and angst. When he saw me, his eyes softened and his mouth slowly opened in awe.

"D…Deym?" he choked and the chains jingled as he tried to move, "Is that you?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

Marik's eyes widened, "What happened? What did he do to you?" His eyes grew dark again as he stared that 'That Man', "What did you do? What did you do to Deym?"

"Marik?" I asked, trying to calm him down.

Tears overflowed his face, "Deym… What happened?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him, "I'm the same. I'm right here."

He shook his head, "You're not the same. You're different. Look at you! Your smile doesn't even reach your eyes anymore… You don't stand with confidence anymore… You have no light in your eyes… You've let your hair grow out and cover your face… You don't carry light with you anymore…"

All his accusations made me feel ashamed, "I… I feel betrayed," I admitted.

"By me?" he asked, almost shocked.

"You left me alone…" I told him, "Mother refused to protect us… No one stood by me anymore… No one relied on my support anymore…" I realized my own tears spilled over my face, "I-I didn't feel like I was needed anymore."

Marik collapsed on the ground in defeat, "This is my fault…" He wept, "I've abandoned you…" His head snapped up and he broke his hand free of his chains, and pointed a jagged finger at the man, "Why did you do this to me? Why did you take me away from the light? Why did you hurt Deym like this!"

The man smirked as Marik exploded and I was afraid. I found myself tapping my foot restlessly as a strange, fast tempo beat in my mind.

"This is YOUR fault!" he screamed, "What did you do to Deym! Give me my brother back! You're killing him! You're taking him away! Give him back! Don't you dare take him! You'll suffocate him!"

Marik didn't stop shouting as he pulled against the chains. He swung his sword with his free hand, weaker with every slash in the stiff air. Marik's knees collapsed so that he cried helplessly on the cold ground. His arm still held by the chain was bleeding furiously from the constant jerking against the rusty metal.

He looked up at me in desperation, "Don't be like me… Please. Don't change… You are right. It's not worth it…"

"Marik…" I watched him as his breaths became slow and further and further apart.

He stared up at me, breathing hard, "Don't think the darkness with help you. All it does is strip you of everything…"

I remembered my feet and sprinted to his side. His bloody hand reached for mine and I held onto him tightly. I could feel his body swaying from weakness as he opened and closed his eyes; droning in and out of consciousness.

"No," I whispered as I realized what was happening, "Not now," I begged him.

"I'm sorry, Deym," He cried and leaned heavily on me.

"No. Not now. Not when I need you the most. Not when everything else has been taken from me. Please, not you too," my tears fell over my face in a constant flow.

"Deym… Thank you…" he ruffled my hair like he used to when I was just a toddler.

"Don't!" I screamed and his eyes widened. My breathing accelerated and I felt like I was going into hysteria, "Please don't leave me…"

"I… can't… breathe…" he swallowed and all his weight was leaning on me, for he was unable to keep himself up anymore.

"Please don't…" I cried softly, "I need you… You're going to leave me… I'll be alone… I don't want to be alone anymore… I don't want to go back into the dark… I need you here… I need you to save me…"

"I… I'm not the… person you… should be…asking to… save you…" he rasped.

"But you're all I have," I told him with another burst of hysteria.

He gave me a pathetic attempt at a smile, "I'm sorry I didn't give you more…. I'm sorry I couldn't save you… I'm sorry I left you… and I'm sorry I wasn't the kind of brother you deserved…"

"Don't say that," I begged, "You were the best brother I could ever ask for. Everything else can fade away! I don't want any of it! Please, just stay with me! That's all I want…"

"So…rr…y…" he breathed one last time and then slowly faded away.

I held him tightly to myself and buried my face in his hair. I let my sobs take me until I had nothing left to give. I cried until my soul hollowed out and I couldn't feel anything anymore. I let it all out until I couldn't tell the difference between anything.

Light.

Dark.

Right.

Wrong.

Love.

Hate.

Family.

Rival.

It was all the same. It all blended together inside me. I couldn't feel anything, totally numb. I slowly let go of Marik's cold body and took small steps away from it until I was standing next to 'that man'.

"How do I get him back," I asked in a low voice, "How do I save his heart."

"His heart is forever lost in the darkness. You cant get it back," He explained, "Well… there is one way…"

"Tell me. I want to know. I'll do whatever it takes. Kill anyone. Become anything," I vowed.

"That's my good boy," he sneered and placed a gangly hand on my shoulder, "Come with me. I'll show you everything you'll ever need…. And more."

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review please :D


	6. Chapter 6

woahhh. i'm updating fast! i'm excited!

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Go ahead and waste your days with thinking  
When you fall everyone stands  
Another day and you've had your fill of sinking  
With the life held in your...  
Hands are shaking cold  
These hands are meant to hold

So a day when you've lost yourself completely  
Could be a night when your life ends  
Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving  
All the pain held in your...  
Hands are shaking cold...

_-Move Along_ by _All-American Rejects_

* * *

**Chapter 6  
Why?**

I found myself sitting on a grassy hillside and staring up at a diamond sky. I wrapped my dark cloak around myself and just looked up at the billions of stars. Sitting on this lonely hill in the middle of a small run down world made me feel so small. How could someone like me bring back a heart? I hugged my legs to my chest and rested my head on my knees.

A flicker of light caught my eye. I glanced down and noticed a small cabin not too far down the hill. I peered through the window and saw a happy little family sitting together at their dinner table, just laughing and talking like everything was perfect. I frowned.

Why did they seem so happy? I felt miserable and yet other people were having the absolute best days of their short lives. Why could they be happy when everything I had ever loved was stripped from me? It didn't seem fair. What gave them the right to live perfect little lives while others around them were being torn apart from the inside out?

Frustrated, I summoned my Tonfas. I took long, silent strides until I was sneaking along the side of the house. I edged my way until I could peek into their home. A set of parents, one young girl, and an infant.

I quickly went around to the front, took a deep breath, and kicked the door in. The door fell from its hinges and sounded my entrance with a crash. I sprinted into the room the family was eating at and drew my weapons.

"Who are you?" the woman asked.

"You're awful young to be carrying so grand a weapon," the man nodded to my Tonfas.

I glared at them, "Shut up. It's none of your business what I do. Why should a perfect little family like you worry about a broken little kid like me?"

"Calm down," the man offered, "We'll give you some food and shelter. We have extra rooms if you'd like. I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret."

"Why do you care?" I spat, "Besides the fact that your lives could be taken."

"Because someone so young shouldn't be so angry…" the woman said, heartfelt.

"I knew someone who said they cared about me," I let out a dark chuckle, "Man, was I an idiot for believing _that_. No one cares. No one listens."

"Don't do this," The man begged, "I understand you've been hurt, but—"

I cut him off, "Do you?" I felt tears beat against my eyes but I held them back, "You _know_? And you _understand_? So, you were forced to watch as your father was killed right there in front of you? Your mother watched as you were beaten and your brother was taken and she didn't do anything? You held your brother in your arms as he took his final breath and in that final breath he told you how sorry he was for who he had been and you didn't even have time to tell him goodbye before he was lifeless in your arms?" I couldn't stop myself from spilling everything, "And now, you're with the worst man in the world because that may be the only way you can make anything right again? You can't know what I've been through, nor can you understand! How could you?"

"Answers can't always be given to you. They also can't always be simple. Sometimes you have to find things out for yourself and forg—" the man started but was cut off.

My arm sliced down hard and firm over the man's chest. I shoved the blade further into his chest until his breathing stopped and he fell lifeless to the ground. And I didn't stop there. I silenced the screams of the women as I murdered them after. I didn't have enough mercy in me to even think about sparing the infant's life.

I breathed hard as I stood over the pale family. The blood splattered the room and my clothes. I smashed the window and jumped to my escape. I fell lightly on the grass and sprinted back up the hill.

Once at the top, I turned back to the empty house and fell to my knees. _Why?_

I had more blood on my hands than I ever thought imaginable. I'd seen more death in the past year than some people see in a lifetime. I fell facedown on the grass and wept.

* * *

The next morning, I found myself in 'my room'. The room 'That Man' had provided for me was far from homey. It was dark and made you feel like you were being held captive. A lumpy mattress with a blanket thrown over top was my bed. The ground was cold, dark stone. It had one thin window that lined the top. Yes, just like a dungeon.

I forced myself up, ignoring the icy stone under my bare feet, and went to the poor excuse for a bathroom. I quickly washed up and went out into the main room. I wiped my eyes and found myself standing face to face with 'That Man'.

"Morning," he nodded to me.

"M'ning," I slurred.

"I see you had a busy night," he stated and took a sip out of the cup he was holding.

I shuddered, but tried to pull it off as a shrug, "I guess."

"Why so loose answers? Giving me the silent treatment?" he chuckled, "How childish."

"Well," I looked down at myself, "I _am_ a child."

"You're ten," He shook his head, trying to tell me how old I was.

"Ten is still a child," I insisted.

"So it would seem," he muttered and took another sip of whatever he was drinking, "Do you want me to teach you how to fight?"

"I want you to tell me how to get Marik's heart back," I kept my voice level and monotone.

"But to do what you have to do for that mission, you must know how to fight properly," he instructed.

"I'd rather not learn from you," I answered.

"Who will you learn from?" He asked.

"This town does have a town blacksmith, right? He must be a Master swordsman who could teach me something," I suggested.

He chuckled, "The only Master around here was that man you killed last night. So, it's learn from me or you won't learn at all."

"Fine," I gave in and drew my weapons, "Teach me."

"What's wrong?" He asked me in a sly voice.

He had been teaching me for hours. I had dropped my weapons and rested against a wall.

"I'm tired," I told him and sat on the ground.

"Would you like some food?" he asked, "You haven't eaten in a few days."

"I don't want to eat anything you prepare for me," I told him, coldly.

"You don't trust me?" he asked, curious.

"I don't trust anyone," I told him in a stern voice, "I don't need help from anyone who requires my trust. I'd rather go my own way."

"Smart boy," he nodded, "But you know, not all people can make it on their own. Me, for example, I will always need an apprentice. I would never be able to live alone."

I huffed at his statement, "Somehow, I seriously doubt that."

I lifted myself up off the ground and went outside. I found myself walking along the hills again but I avoided the little house where I'm sure the bodies still laid.

"Mom," I spoke into the air and the light wind took away my words, "…Don't you care? I feel so alone all the time. I'm trying. I'm trying to bring our family back together. Do you notice? Do you know how hard I'm trying… for _you_? Why did you leave me? Why did you let me run away? Why didn't you come after me?" I closed my eyes as I whispered my final question into the silent morning, "…Why did you let me fall into darkness?"

My mind switched directions after that.

_Why did I let it get this far? This is the worst thing I've ever done... I can't make up for it. Why did I do it? Why did I have to take it out on innocent people--people who offered to help me? Why have I changed myself so much?_

_Why?_

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review please :D


	7. Chapter 7

_next chapter! yay!  
so i was listening to skillet. i was listening to the song "live free or let me die" and i fell in love with it. so, this chapter is based heavily on that song. and i want to give props to Skillet because their songs have been probably my numbero uno insperation songs. and if you dont know/listen to skillet, you should probably go do that. like, now. no joke. they are amazing._

_of course, another sad chapter! read and review.  
__this one is personally one of my favorite chapters. maybe cause i'm just a sucker for the whole "i have hope now!" thing. yeah, it's cliche, but that's all i got. :D__

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_  
_Insects walk below, I'm on a wire  
Fire will burn below, but I am higher  
It feels like, it feels like  
Don't you know the cost, of your betrayal?  
You're the one that's lost, you're gonna fail  
It feels like, it feels like you're gasping with all your might_

_You can't take away my strength  
Fix these broken veins  
There's nothing left to fight (Live free or let me die)  
You can't take away my pride, I won't be denied  
There's nothing left to fight (Live free or let me die)_

_Do you remember how  
You became who you are now?  
Do you remember how  
It felt to breathe without  
Gasping with all your might?_

_-song: Live Free or Let Me Die by Skillet_

* * *

**Chapter 7  
Gasping With All Your Might  
**(props go to the band Skillet for the title)

A few months past and I felt as if I had gone to hell and back. Training had become more and more intense everyday, usually leaving me with cuts and bruises at the end of the day. I had learned—not to trust—but at least to_ tolerate_ 'That Man'. And by tolerate, I mean I was now eating the food he prepared and answering him with more than just one-word answers.

"Deym, come and practice," He gestured and walked into the training room, "My apprentice needs work." He chuckled.

Yes._ Apprentice_. I hated that word. But, nevertheless, it was true. It was the only way he would continue training me. If I agreed to be his apprentice, he would share with me the knowledge I needed to save Marik's heart. His terms are more demanding the longer I stay.

"Come apprentice!" he called from the other room.

I couldn't help going into a flashback of that horrible experience. I guess I couldn't just have the title 'apprentice'. No, he had to _mark_ me.

_* * flashback * *_

"_Will you admit yourself to be my apprentice now?" He asked one day, "If you wish to learn more in the ways of fighting, I need to know you won't turn on me and just kill me on the spot."_

_I looked at him, innocent. _

_He chuckled, "I'm not a fool, despite what you think. If I teach you all I know, it wouldn't take much for you to overthrow me. You are the strongest 11-year-old I've ever met."_

_Eleven. Two years now? And I sill didn't have the information I needed… _

"_If I agree," I realized, "You will tell me how to save Marik?"_

"_Of course,"_

_I gave a short, stiff nod, "O-okay." _

"_Good boy," he smirked and walked over to a fireplace. _

_I hadn't noticed the fireplace before because it was never lit. But today it was. He pulled out a long rod that had been sitting in the coals. An orange smoldering symbol was on the other end._

"_What is that?" I asked, peering at the symbol._

"_A reminder," he took slow paces over to me._

_I stepped back away from him. Out of habit, maybe. _

"_Of?" I demanded, stepping back again._

"_A reminder for you. This is my symbol, it will label you as my apprentice. Maybe if you are… 'tamed' it will take away any doubts you have of me. It will change your mind before you turn on your master." He explained._

_He was going to label me. He was going to brand me. Like I was freaking cattle! Like I was his property! _

_I shook my head hard, "No. I won't wear your symbol. I won't let you claim me as you would an animal."_

"_Why?" He asked and swung the hot metal rod around casually, "Do you wish to turn on me? I will not teach you if I do not have your vow. And this," he gestured to the symbol, "Is how you take your vow."_

"_Your demands change a lot. Will you ever show me how to save Marik or will you just control me until I do whatever you want?" I spat._

"_In time. I gave you my promise, now I need yours," He stepped closer and this time I didn't step back._

"_Fine," I growled through clenched teeth. _

_He gave a dark laugh and was at my side in a second. With his boney—yet somehow strong—hand, he pushed be back up against a wall. Before I had time to think, my hands were bound to chains on the wall. Much like the chains that held Marik. _

_He ripped off my shirt so my chest was exposed. He slowly—but forcefully—shoved the burning metal into my left pectoral._

_I screamed in pain as it burned through my flesh. My nose was filled with the smell of my burning skin and I began choking, unable to breathe from the horrid scent. I struggled against the forever increasing pain and screamed profanities at the man. _

"_It's almost over," he assured, "Stop struggling boy!"_

_I thrashed my head back and forth and jerked my hands that were still held by chains. The skin around my wrists broke as I struggled, but I didn't stop. The blood ran down my arms and I could hear it drip onto the cold stones. I jerked my arm once more and I heard a loud, swift crack. I could feel a bone in my right wrist and the mirrored bone in my left wrist snap and I cried out again._

_Finally, the burning lessened and I could breathe again. I took deep, quick breaths and my hands were released from the chains. They fell limp and I forced them to sit in my lap. I laid back against the wall and was surprised that I wasn't crying from pain. _

"_Look at the symbol you bear," he instructed and revealed a full-length mirror._

_I looked straight ahead and let out a deep breath. I was breathing hard, blood flowing from my wrists. I studied my wrists first._

_The skin flapped where it had been torn open into a loose fold. Those needed to be taken care of before I lost too much blood. They also needed to be wrapped before they set wrong and healed wrong._

_Next I moved up to my face. My mouth hung open as I panted. My bloodstained hair hung over my right eye, darkened by the red but still fragments of gold peeked out. My eyes seemed darker than I remembered and were set hard in anger. I let them fall close. _

_I forced my eyes open again to see the burn. The design etched into the left side of my chest ached. But only the parts around the burn ached. I was lead to believe the branding process killed a few nerves. Blood oozed from the new scar and trickled over my body. I made myself look at the symbol. It was a diamond. More like a shield. Then a single strand, almost like a ribbon, swirled through from side to side. On the very edge, lining the side of the shield, one word was written in perfect script. _

_"_Forsaken"

_I closed my eyes again. I tried not to focus on the smell of blood and burning skin. I was starting to feel nauseas. _

_Are you happy?" I gasped and forced my eyes open to look at that man. _

_He smirked, "You could say that."_

"_So, 'Master'," I made the name sound like a curse, "What do you want me to call you?"_

"_That's it," he informed, "Master."_

"_Okay," I agreed, "But what is your real name? I just want to know. In my mind, you're known as 'That Man'."_

_He smirked, "My name is Francis. But I would rather you not call me that. It's been a long time since anyone called me by my name. Master will suffice."_

_I nodded and let my eyes close again. This time, I let myself fall into unconsciousness. _

_* * end flashback * *_

"Deym," he called again from the training room.

I shook my head, trying to wipe the memory from my mind. I pulled off my cloak and shirt for I found that in training he almost worked me to death.

I was walking to the room when I caught sight of myself in a mirror. I had grown since the last time I saw myself, maybe around 4 inches taller. And no doubt I had gotten stronger just by physical appearance. I had to be the most ripped eleven-year-old in the universe. Not that I was proud or anything. Though, my skin that stretched across my build was far too pale.

Then my eyes settled on my chest. I lifted my hand and slowly traced my fingers around the scar. I traced it several times until I finally just covered it completely with the palm of my hand.

"Deym!"

He ordered again and I pulled my eyes from the mirror. I entered the room with Tonfas in hand.

"Hit me," he instructed.

I paused, "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, "Just hit me. I want to see how much stronger you are from a few weeks ago."

I dismissed my Tonfas and coiled my hand into a fist. I sucked in a deep breath and used the strength from my legs to push off the ground so I could hit him hard. I launched my fist into his stomach and skidded to a stop after the punch was laid.

His feet glided backwards, but he didn't fall. He stayed hunched over for a while and then finally stood up straight. I thought he would be pleased with my strength, but he wasn't.

"That's it?" he looked at me with piercing yellow eyes, "That's all you got?"

My eyebrows pulled down and I felt as if I needed to make up a reason for my weakness, "My wrists are still healing. I broke them, remember?"

"Of course I remember!" He spat, "How could I not? We had to focus on just your leg tactics for weeks because of the healing process."

I nodded, remembering. I looked down at my wrists. The day they were broken he had wrapped them in a white bandage. Then, he had given me a brace. The brace didn't look like you'd think. The brace was like a thick, wide steel bracelet. On one point, there was a 5 inch metal piece that looked a little like a spearhead. The brace doubled as a type of short weapon. In a way, it reminded me of a miniature Pata.

"You know," I broke the silence, speaking my thoughts, "I had a dream last night," I spoke softly and claimed his attention, "And the whole time I was being questioned by this voice. I couldn't find the speaker so I found myself answering the questions. And over the path of questions it made me realize something."

"And…?" he prodded.

"You are controlling me. I've known it and you know it. But, your thought processes isn't correct. You think that if you keep on controlling me I'll eventually just give in and loose sight of my whole reason for joining you. I'm just letting you know that I wont let that happen," I told him.

He smiled a wide, dark smile and chuckled.

"That's what I'm talking about," I told him firmly, "You think I don't know what I'm doing? I know what I'm doing. I know what I'm becoming. But that doesn't mean I've lost sight of the light. I'm not going to let you control my every thought and move."

He laughed harder.

"I'm serious," I told him in a low whisper.

"I know you are," He nodded, "That's why it's funny."

"I'd rather die than fall into your footsteps. When I'm here, everything is so much harder. Even_ breathing_ is harder around you! I'm not going to lose sight of my purpose. You think I'm just a boy with a weak heart but I'm not going to let you take everything that's important to me. I won't let you take away who I am and who I always will be."

"My dear boy," he chuckled and took a few steps closer. He reached out with a jagged finger and traced his mark on my chest, "I already have. No matter what you do, no matter what you say, and no matter how hard you fight it, I've got total control over you. I can see it in your eyes."

"Listen. To. What. I. Am. Saying." I said low, through clenched teeth, "I will not be who you want me to be. You can take away everything but you can't take away the light. It's in my heart still, I feel it. I know it's small, but it's there."

"You keep thinking that, my boy," he smirked, "But you'll find that every step you take, no matter what direction that step is in, you'll come back to me."

Frustrated, and a little afraid, I turned and left the room. Once I was out of his sight, I fell into a sprint. I went straight to my room, slammed the door behind me, and locked it.

I breathed hard and leaned against the closed door. I slowly slid to the ground and took slow, deep breaths. I let my head fall into my hands.

"_How did you get here? How did you loose yourself?"_

It was the same small voice I heard in my dream. My conscience. It was a beating in my mind and I forced myself to answer the question.

"I don't know," I answered, "I… I'm lost…"

"_You are so tired. Not just physically, but mentally and even your heart is worn out. With every breath you take, you're gasping. It's like all you can do now is try to stay alive."_

I felt the tears press against my eyes and I let them fall silently.

"_You once said you felt betrayed," _the voice continued, _"Who really betrayed who? Did your mother betray you for 'abandoning you'… or did you betray her by running when you knew she needed you most? Did Marik betray you for trying to bring your family happiness, even if it wasn't the best method… or did you betray Marik for not letting him follow his heart? Do you know how much your betrayal to your family will cost you?"_

The tears came faster and I felt my stomach heave in and out as I tried to keep my sobs silent.

"_You want to make everything right again. How do you expect to do that when you are the one that's lost? The only path you've set for yourself is failure."_

I jumped to my feet and shoved a hard, frustrated fist into the stone wall. My knuckles beat against the rough surface and blood splattered from where the ridges cut my fist. I breathed hard, my stomach heaving so hard I thought I might throw up.

I sucked in a quick breath and answered the last question, "I've set myself up for failure, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try to make things right."

* * *

**review please. :D**


	8. Chapter 8

i like this chapter. i hope you do too. :D  
read and review. :D  
enjoy**

* * *

**

_Love is all around you now,  
So take a hold.  
Hidden in our words  
just sometimes ain't enough.  
Don't suffocate day after day,  
It's building up  
When you're feeling weak  
You know I'm strong enough_

Love is indestructible,  
So take a hold  
Sometimes hard to find  
A reason good enough.  
I'll stand beside you,  
Never leave, through it all  
And faith will bring a way  
To the impossible

Just one more day  
One more day...

let the world crash  
Love can take it  
let the world come crashing down  
let the world crash  
Love can take it  
Love can take a little  
Love can give a little more

_-A Little More_ by_ Skillet_

* * *

**Chapter 8  
Beautiful Voice**

"I want to know," I blurted one day over dinner.

"Excuse me?" he mumbled.

"I've been here for two years now," I explained, "I want to know how to save Marik."

"You haven't been here for two years, you've been here for three. Almost four now. Haven't you been able to keep track of time?" he asked, but the question was rhetorical.

"I-I'm… twelve years old?" I asked slowly.

He nodded, "Yes. And I think today will be the perfect day to teach you how to save your brother."

My eyes widened in surprise. He was actually going to do it? He was going to keep his promise?

He stood from the table and began down the hallway, "Come, come," he gestured to me.

I forced my shocked legs to follow. I kept my distance as I followed him. The halls were grim and empty. It was a hallway I had never taken before. The hallways he had forbidden me from going.

"Here," I jumped as he broke the long silence. He pried open a door and the sudden light from the door made me snap my eyes closed.

I forced my eyes into a squint and followed him into the next dungeon. My eyes slowly adjusted and I was able to see around everything. The room had white walls and was almost totally empty. The only thing was a white table in the middle of the room with a long black sword sitting on it.

That Man walked over and picked up the blade with his weak arms. I wondered how I hadn't noticed the time passing. It was obvious Francis was getting weaker with old age. No doubt that I could kill him in a fight. He held the sword and tested the weight. He swung the blade a few times then held it out to me.

I frowned. It wasn't a normal sword… it was something more.

"Take it," he ordered. And I obeyed.

I held the sword arms length away from me, examining it slowly. It had a thick red handle. The black blade was long and smooth but thinned to a sharp point at the tip. Another sharp blade, smaller, came out of the tip. It made the blade look like… a key?

"What can this do?" I asked, still examining the blade.

"This, as I'm sure you've noticed, isn't like other blades. It has the power to unlock people's hearts. It's called a 'keyblade'. The most powerful weapon," he explained and I could see in his eyes that this blade was important not only to him, but someone else too.

"Unlock people's hearts…?" I repeated the part that commanded my attention.

"Don't you see, Deym? This is how you can get Marik's heart back. His heart lies within yours. Now you have to release it," his yellow eyes glistened again and I knew what he meant.

To save Marik, I had to kill myself.

"That wasn't part of our deal," I sneered at him through clenched teeth.

"Sure it was," he shrugged, "You work for me and I tell you how you can save Marik. You didn't specify that you had to save yourself too. If you wanted to _live _after you saved him, you should have told me that in the beginning."

Frustrated, I held the keyblade tighter in my fist. I glared at him and spat, "You. Lied."

"Think what you want," he shrugged, "I told you everything you wanted to know. You didn't ask 'how' you asked 'when'. I gave you everything you ever asked for," he smirked darkly at me.

With a loud, deep cry, I flipped the keyblade around and plunged it through my heart. My chest caught on fire and I stood there, letting the keyblade suck out my existence. Bright lights surrounded me as I saw something flutter out of my chest and up toward the sky.

"Deym?" I heard a faint voice that I knew at once.

_"Marik,"_ I tried to say, but my mouth refused to move.

Somehow, that man had preserved Marik's body for years, but I didn't want to think about that now. The heart went back to Marik. He was alive. I had saved him.

"Deym," Marik repeated and I felt something weak catch my falling body.

"Ma…rik?" I managed to mumble and another flame engulfed my chest in pain.

"I'm here," he told me and held me closer to himself. There was a pause and I saw the realization as a sad expression took over his face, "You…you saved me…"

I managed to bobble my weak head in a nod.

"Why," tears fell from his face, "Why would you sacrifice yourself for me? Deym…" his voice turned to a whispered, "How can I save you?"

I shook my head and he understood what I wanted to say. He couldn't.

"Marik," I stuttered, all power gone from my voice, "Don't—follow—him" he knew who I was talking about, "Go back—find your light—for me."

Marik didn't answer. He just stared into my suffering face. Slowly, I could feel myself slipping away.

Away… away… into unconsciousness.

Marik's voice was softer, "Deym," he whispered and I saw fragments of myself slowly melting away into the nothingness, "Don't leave me."

I felt Marik slip away, there was nothing left of me for him to hold. Slowly, slowly, all my senses slipped away from me. first my sense of touch. I couldn't feel anything. Inside or outside. Next was my sense of smell. No more rotting dungeons. Shortly after was my hearing. Marik's mouth moved, but no words came out. Finally, my vision was taken over by a permanent blackness.

And then I knew it was over.

* * *

Losing your heart to save someone you cared about wasn't the worst thing. You got to float in a sea of nothingness.

No pain. No sadness. No suffering.

No joy. No happiness. No love.

It was a median. A lifeline from all feeling. And I couldn't say I wanted to complain, because I didn't. I didn't_ want_ anything. I didn't _need_ anything. It reminded me a lot of sleeping. Like sleeping when you're not having a dream. Just floating in the median of emotion.

Also like sleep, when it was over, you couldn't remember when it began.

"Deym…" "Family" "heart" "come back" "I need…" "lost" "we need" "come back" "Deym…"

The words didn't make since. They didn't fit together in the right way. I strained to hear the muffled voice, trying to hear the parts of the sentence I had missed. I frowned as I strained but couldn't hear anything besides the random words of pleading.

That's the first thing I remember feeling when I first started to wake up. Or, should I say things.

Frustration. Curiosity. Disappointment. Hope. More frustration.

But most of all… _love_.

"Deym..." the small voice was clearer now, "I don't care what you've done, I just want you safe. I want you home..." the voice paused but continued, "I'm sure, no matter what you've done, you're perfect. Don't give up now. Come home. Don't keep choking yourself in the darkness. Hold onto the light... for one more day. Let the world crash, you can take it. I'll help you. I'll be right here. Come home."

The beautiful voice. That glorious voice called out to me. it reached through the nothingness and slowly pulled me to the surface. That voice, soft and compassionate, sweet and pleading. It was everything you ever needed to hear all in those simple jumbled up words and those few sentences. Everything I needed. The owner of that voice cared. The owner of that voice loved me.

So many feelings I felt in the past... So many mistakes I had made... So many people I had hurt... That beautiful voice didnt care.

That voice... That beautiful voice was calling me back. It was giving me a reason to live... To live through all the pain, all the suffering...

Yes. I could live. For that beautiful voice, I could live...

* * *

Slowly, I came out of my comatose state. Feeling came back into my limbs and I slowly began moving my fingers and toes. My eyelids fluttered, but they couldn't open. The lids were much too heavy for me to lift.

I waited. Moving my fingers and toes, I waited impatiently for my eyes to get enough strength to open. I wanted them to move so I could see the owner of the voice. Perfect and sweet. I needed it.

My eyes slowly opened and I found myself staring into white. I didn't know what it was, I just knew it was white. But something was smudging in my vision making the white tainted with grey. I frowned into the grey-whiteness and felt the rest of my limbs coming further to life.

Liquid. Water? No… much too thick to be water…

I slowly filled in my lungs and winced when the first sent to hit my nose made me want to gag. I sucked air in, through my mouth this time, and tried to move.

Glass. Glass surrounded me. dirty glass. That explained the smudges on the white. It took me a second to realize I was not standing up, but rather laying down. On my back. In a tank. And the bile liquid around me sloshed over my chest, but it wasn't deep enough to get into my face and keep me from breathing.

A needle. In my hand. An IV.

A tube. In my nose. An oxygen tube.

I wiggled a little and heard the sound of my skin rubbing against the glass of the dirty tank. Feeling my arm, I reached up, lazily, and pulled the tube from my nose and yanked the IV from my hand.

I hadn't gotten enough feeling back in my legs to move anything but my toes yet. But my upper body was slugging to life. I raked my finger back through my hair and let out a deep sigh.

My hair felt long. Too long. Like it had to have at least came down between the shoulder blades on my back. If I could ever find a knife, that would have to go. Then again, I was in a tank and a knife wasn't seeming likely.

Hearing became easier about the same time I could move my legs. I paused when I heard muffled voices speaking from outside my tank.

"He wont come back," the gross, familiar voice informed, "He gave his life for you a year ago."

_"a year ago..." _I thought "_13... i'm 13 now..."_

The gross voice continued, "I don't understand why you insist on keeping a lifeless body in a tank. It's kind of… disturbing if you ask me."

"Ha," a familiar, softer voice laughed without humor, "Disturbing to you? I don't think that's possible."

I shifted my weight and my skin squeaked against the glass again. This time the two people looked up.

"Deym…" the softer voice cooed, in shock.

"Impossible," the harder voice said, firm.

"Ma…" I started but my vocal cords didn't work right. I couldn't get it out.

"I'm here," he promised and was at my tank in seconds.

He pressed a few buttons and soon my tank opened, allowing me to breathe fresh air for the first time. How I loved fresh air…

Marik gently pulled me out of the yucky fluids and supported almost all my weight. I was soon provided with a pair of ripped jeans. The jeans started to sag and I noticed I had lost quite a bit of weight in my sleep. A stud belt was provided to keep my pants around my waist.

I forced my head to roll and look at That Man. His yellow eyes still had the ability to pierce through your soul, and he still looked stronger than an old man should. The only real difference was his hair had grayed and he now used a walking stick to help carry him.

"Welcome back," he smiled wickedly.

I looked at Marik with pleading eyes. And he knew what I wanted to ask. _Why hadn't he taken my last request and run away from this man?_

"I couldn't just leave you. And I didn't have the supplies to have even the possibility of doing anything…" he explained.

I found my voice, though it was raspy and shaking, "Save me? I didn't get _sick_, Marik. I _died_."

"Somehow you're living now…" he noted.

"But… I don't think you keeping me in a tank did anything for me. Though, I appreciate the effort… It was something else… A voice. A girl's voice. Soft and sweet. Full of compassion and love..." I trailed off.

I saw That Man's face tense. As if he knew the whole reason behind my miracle. As if he wanted to kill whatever had brought me back.

But I didn't question him. Not now. Later. I would get my answers sometime between when I started feeling stronger and when I ran out of this stupid prison with Marik right behind me. Yes, I would get all my answers.

And find the owner of that Beautiful Voice.

* * *

review please :D


	9. Chapter 9

sorry it took so long. another update. hope you like it. :D  
**read and review :D**

* * *

Training day is over  
It's been laid on the line  
I'll give this all I've got  
And I'll find my time to shine  
I will settle for no less  
Than the best I've got to give  
Only the strong survive  
When they try to take you down

-_Throwdown _by_ Pillar_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 9  
**

"I still don't understand," Marik told me, stubborn.

"I told you," I sighed. It was times like these I wondered if he really was the older brother. He sure wasn't acting like it, "I have to do this."

"But… _why_?" he insisted.

"I'll come back," I promised, avoiding the question.

"But… where could you possibly be going?" his voice was softer now.

I knew what he was getting at. We had this conversation before.

*flashback*

"_If you only stayed with him to save me, than why are we still here?" I asked after Marik and I returned to the room which we now shared. My old room._

"_Deym," Marik began, "I want to stay here."_

"_Why?" I snapped, without hesitation._

"_Where else would we go?" he asked, his voice sad._

_I thought about that for a moment, but I had no answer. Home wasn't an option—it was probably reduced to rubble by now. Try to find mom—no. What would she do anyway?_

"_See?" Marik whispered when I didn't answer._

_I nodded, "Fine," I shrugged, "But I'm not leaving you. You're the only family I have left and so you're kind of stuck with me," I gave him a small smile._

_He beamed, "Good."_

_*end flashback*_

"I thought you've been happy here," Marik continued to protest.

I shrugged, "I _have_ been happy. But… I still have to leave."

Marik looked back at my, "but… _Why_?"

"I'll come back," I promised quickly, "I just need to figure some things out. Alone," I tacked that on at the end so Marik wouldn't come with me.

"May I ask what things you need to figure out?" Francis asked quietly, coming into the room.

"Kind of personal," I managed, "I want to look for someone."

"That voice?" Marik asked, now understanding and a little annoyed. I had told him about 'the voice' before. He never seemed interested or even showed any bit of concern.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"You know, they have medication for that," Francis pointed out.

"It's not a voice in my head!" I defended quickly, "It was a voice I heard while I was coming back to consciousness."

Francis shrugged and mumbled something along the lines of, "I'm sure they have medication for that too…" but other than that, didn't protest.

"Promise you're coming back?" Marik checked.

I nodded, "Promise."

* * *

A week on my own was harder than I intended it to be. Sure I had been 'alone' for years now, but it wasn't like this. I noticed I was growing into my cloak when only 4 feet of it drug behind me instead of 6. That is always a good thing.

Also, my annoying long hair had been cut. I had cut it myself so I was sure it wasn't the best. It was now spiked like I liked it. A few long golden strands fell in my face but for the most part it all spiked up.

I had changed my wardrobe slightly with the little munny I could find. I wore a new-ish pair of jeans and a long sleeved black shirt. I still had to wear the thick metal braces on my wrists from when I broke them years ago. Francis told me I would have to wear those braces probably for the rest of my life. That didn't bother me, but it sure bothered the people on the streets. They would eye me suspiciously and pull their children away.

I was walking through a new town still continuing my lousy search. Let's just say I want the best schemer. My plans included walking through random town and listening to everyone's voice. Yeah, like I said, not too much of a schemer.

I had wandered into an empty town, not sure how I had gotten there. I glanced at the empty buildings and wondered if anyone actually still lived in this run down town.

"Hey, Newbie Nine," a voice spoke and claimed my attention. A cloaked figure stood a few yards away.

I pointed to myself, "Me?" I asked.

"No," the figure said sarcastically, "The _other _Number Nine."

I just stared at the figure, confused, "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Aw, c'mon, Music Man," the figure let his hood down and revealed red spiked hair, "You know I was kidding."

"…What_ are_ you?" I asked as I stared at the man.

He laughed without humor, "You can't be serious. You better suck it up 'cause I am not going down the whole explain-everything-to-the-new-guy road again. I'm glad you're here because I'm tired of being the low one."

"You've got the wrong guy, freak," I muttered and started to walk away.

"Hey, hey," the red head ran up and flopped a hand over my shoulder, "If it really is that big of a deal, I'll lay up on the jokes, okay? Let's just go home."

I shrugged away from him, "Step off," I growled.

"Touchy," he threw his hands up in innocence.

"Who _are_ you?" I demanded.

"Geez!" he huffed, "You're bad at this. A-X-E-L. Memorize it this time."

"Fine, Axel," I allowed, "Will you do me a favor and get lost?"

He stopped and stared at me as I continued walking. I peeked behind me when I noticed he had fallen back. I saw him smirk and he ran to catch back up with me.

"Ohh," he laughed, "the loser's got some backbone. Good, you'll need it back home. Xig already hates you. Which is bad news for you, kid."

"Why do you keep saying 'home' like it belongs to me? How about you go 'home' and get away from me?" I suggested, serious.

"Alright," he rolled his eyes, "This is getting annoying now. Let's go." He yanked my arm.

"Get off!" I yelled and struggled in his grip.

"You sure are different, Waterboy," Axel paused for a second then smiled, "Ha! Waterboy. Kinda catchy, don't 'cha think? I like it. That's your new nickname, kay Nine?"

"Stop calling me names!" I spat and jerked away.

"Fine. Gosh, you have mood swings like none other, Waterboy," Axel sighed.

"Stop," I said again, noticing he called me 'Waterboy'.

"Are you trying to be stupid?" Axel exhaled sharply, "Cause you know, it's getting old. I'm really tired of putting up with your stupidity."

"Then get lost and don't worry about my 'stupidity'," I suggested.

Axel rolled his eyes, "Where is your smile? Where'd it go? I mean, come on. You haven't smiled once since I've caught up with you. I know this whole 'not feeling' thing is strange for you, but you did a nice job of being, well, _happy_. So how about you put on that smile, come on home, and let's see what Xemnas has up his sleeve."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I screamed, "Leave me alone! Go to your home with your Xem-whatever and your stupid stupidness and leave me out of it!"

Axel was taken aback and I kept walking, "Demyx?"

I turned slowly, "Me?" I pointed to myself again. This better not be a repeat of the whole episode.

"Demyx?" he asked again, eyes focused.

"You got the wrong guy," I repeated.

His eyes widened, "Man!" he shouted, "Xemnas is going to kill me!" he created a portal and began backing into it, "Just forget about this, okay?" he shook his head and mumbled, "Demyx's other is still alive… who knew?"

And the strange man was gone.

* * *

After that I didn't have much luck. With anything. Ever.

I hadn't given much thought to what I would do when I found the person I was looking for. What would I say?

'_Oh, yeah, I kinda hear your voice in my head. So, um, you mind if I stalk you and follow you around? No? cool.'_

Yeah, I'm sure _that_ would really fly.

"Your right," I heard a deeper voice behind me, "I thought this was going to be some stupid prank but… you were serious."

I turned and saw a big guy in a dark cloak standing beside a smaller figure. Axel.

"Oh no…" I muttered and turned to face them.

"Hey kid," Axel tossed a hand up, "Miss me?"

"Didn't you get the hint last time?" I asked, frustrated.

"Oh, I did," Axel stated, "But this time, I'm not here to shoot the breeze."

I frowned.

He continued, "I've brought my buddy with me. This is Xaldin. And we got orders so…"

"Orders…?" I repeated as a question.

"Simple," The one called 'Xaldin' spoke up, "Either you come back with us or we force you to come back with us. It's really all up to you."

"I'm not going anywhere," I snapped and my Tonfas snapped to my hands.

"Oh… a fight, huh?" Axel smirked as if the thought of a battle excited him, "This should be easy. I can take Demyx down in thirty seconds flat. You shouldn't be much different."

"Don't underestimate me," I warned. It's time for them to see how strong I really am. All my training is about to pay off.

Xaldin then summoned his own weapon and lances began falling from the sky as he caught each one effortlessly. Axel held out his hands to the side and looked down. Fire spun in circles around his hands and two chakram appeared.

Axel looked back up at me with a menacing smile, "Dance water, dance."

My eyes widened as he stated the source of my magic, "How'd you…" I started but trailed off.

Water magic wasn't something Francis had taught me. It was something I had taught myself. I figured if one day I had to fight Francis, the things he didn't teach me would be his downfall. But I had practiced in secret and was surprised when Axel seemed to know it all.

"Oh, was that a secret?" Axel smirked, "Funny. You sure don't act like Waterboy's other…"

"Axel," Xaldin said his name in warning.

"What?" Axel asked, "He's gonna be dead soon, probably. What does it matter what he knows about nobodies?"

"Nobody?" I repeated, asking.

"Ask your 'master' about it sometime. That is, if you can live long enough to do so," Xaldin chided and fell into a defensive position.

These freaks-in-cloaks were more than annoying. They were flat out stalkers.

"How did you know that?" I demanded and fell into my own offensive position.

No one answered. The only response I got was a flaming wheel, moving too fast for me to dodge, slicing my shoulder. I fell to the ground, quickly shaped myself so I could roll, and bounced to my feet. I slid my Tonfas into the defensive position.

The lancer took hold of one lance and flung it toward me. I backpedaled, but the lance caught my pant leg and pinned it to the ground. I dismissed one Tonfa quickly and picked up the lance. I hurled it back at the lancer's face. But the witty lancer dismissed the weapon before it had flown a foot through the air and let it reappear in his hand.

I summoned my lost Tonfa and flipped them to the offensive position. I charged, letting the clasp of my cloak come undone and fall, and slashed my Tonfa at Axel's abdomen. The blade sliced through his black cloak easily and cut skin on the other side. Axel huffed, furious that I had landed a blow, and the battlefield was surrounded in a ring of fire.

The lancer, as I was pulling my blade back from Axel, quickly stabbed three lances—two through my pant legs and one through my sleeve—and pinned me to the ground. I tried to break free, but he stuck a fourth lance through my other sleeve so I couldn't move.

The lances weren't stabbed through the skin, just through the clothes so I couldn't move. But it was enough to fuel my rage. I muttered a quick spell under my breath. The water in the air quickly accumulated into a long, thick whip. I yelled one word—the last word of the spell so the water would strike.

I saw from the corner of my eye as the strand of water cracked and swooshed through the air. The water made a thick _thwack _as it lashed down on Xaldin. He skidded back and I smiled in triumph.

Too bad I was stupid and forgot about Axel.

He came out of nowhere—the fast little booger—and uppercut a flame engulfed fist into my stomach. Because of those god-forsaken lances, I was pinned to my place. I couldn't move, I could just wait as he sent a hard jab into my face. I could taste the blood filling my mouth, but I didn't let out a sound.

He backed away and stood up straight, looking at me. he kept backing away. I looked straight up at him, eyes hard, and spit a mouth full of blood out onto the hard ground. I saw his arm raise and form a fist. The final blow that would knock me into unconsciousness. It could have been just my imagination, but I thought I saw his hard green eyes soften… and then his fist lowered.

Before I could really see, a thud of pain coursed through my back and slammed me into the ground. Xaldin's foot, I realized. I now sprawled out on the ground and the lances that once were a necessity to hold me down were no longer needed.

"Axel?" Xaldin asked, obviously seeing the same softening as I had.

I could hear Axel's head shake in dismissal, "Sorry. I just… saw Demyx. And I couldn't punch him again."

"You're getting soft," Xaldin grumbled.

"Like I _can_," Axel scoffed, obviously offended. Then he whispered, "I'm tougher than _you_…"

Xaldin heard his comment, "Then why am I a higher rank?" I could hear his voice was smug.

And I knew Axel was glaring.

I quickly spit out another mouth full of blood. I rolled to my back and quickly fought through the pain to get to my feet before they noticed. I quickly guided water through the air and let two huge waves batter the two together and push them both aside. I let the water crash over them and they were both on the ground.

I turned to walk away when I thought they wouldn't get back up.

I was wrong.

Before I could get far enough away, those terrible lances were around me. 10…20… too many for me to count were around me. half of them jabbed into my sides and the other pinned down every edge of me to the ground. I grumbled in pain and tried not to move and make the lances poke in harder.

I was able to open my eyes to see Axel standing over me.

"Sorry, Waterboy," he mouthed, much too low for Xaldin to hear.

Then he sent the last punch to my head. And before I slipped into unconsciousness, i could hear the words of Francis from long ago, from the first time I 'failed' my training.

"I've told you!" he screamed, "Never underestimate your opponent! When they are down, you make sure they stay down!" he sighed deep and looked at me in disgust, "You'll never learn. Only the strong survive, and you are weak."

* * *

hope you liked it. :D  
**review please :D**


	10. Chapter 10

hey. sorry it's been a while. but, first it was the holidays and everything is crazy at Christmas. Then, we had finals and that was crazy too. but, i think i'll be okay and update a little faster. i hope you like this chapter, i do. :D

**read and review please.**  
and for all you a worthless nobody readers, this is the part Demyx remembers Saix saying the "you, you will never belong" thing. Deym is actually in the dungeon when that happens. sneeky, right? lol. :D

**JO: you'll really like this chapter :D**

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Yesterday is a promise  
that you've broken  
dont close your eyes.  
this is your life  
and today is all you've got now  
and today is all you'll ever have.  
dont close your eyes.

This is your life,  
are you who you want to be?  
This is your life,  
is it everything you dreamed  
that it would be  
when the world was younger  
and you had everything to lose

don't close your eyes...

-This is Your Life by Switchfoot

* * *

**Chapter 10  
Fourteen  
Don't let it be run by someone else  
**(couldnt choose between these 2 titles. you can choose.)

I wasn't sure if I could tell the difference between awake and unconsciousness. But, I guess I didn't really care. I was still pretty mad that I had let my guard down. I should have known that those guys wouldn't go down so easy. And the thing that really makes me mad is that I could have taken them.

I shifted my weight and heard something above me rattle. It was easily ignored. I rolled my head back in forth, bringing feeling back to my neck. That was when I first started to notice the difference between consciousness and unconsciousness.

My vision went black and everything was numb. Unconsciousness.

…then the stiffness in my neck came back. Consciousness. I leaned my head back, stretching my neck up, and a thick pop labeled the long amount of time I had been in unconsciousness. I let my eyes open slowly, prepared for anything. But it was a wasted effort. I could only make out the silhouette of a few boxes I couldn't name and a few long vertical stripes in front of my face. I wondered what the stripes were more than anything else. Maybe it was just my poor eyesight?

I moved my head a few inches to the left and right. The stripes stayed where they were, and my vision seemed to move around them. Through the stripes, I could see a door with a stream of light coming through the crack at the bottom. _Bars_. Something in the back of my brain told me. and I nodded now that I understood. I was a prisoner.

I slowly gained feeling back in my body and noticed my arms were aching. Not my arms, really. Just my biceps. I moved my shoulders back and forth, a slow shimmy, and stretched out my torso. I sucked in a hard breath when my side stretched and pulled against a healing wound. I could feel the little part that was scabbed over pull and blood trickled down my side. Great. Wonderful. Awesome. Perfect. Sarcasm.

I tried to pull my arms down, rest my aching muscles. I pulled down, but didn't get too far before I heard a rattle of metal and then my arms froze, restrained. I scowled into the darkness and yanked my arms again. This time, I couldn't help but cry out in pure pain.

My braces! My wrist braces! Where did they go?!

I was chained, that much was for sure. My arms were being forced above my head, aching and aching but no way for them to rest. The thick shackles wrapped around my weak wrists and held them prisoner. Whoever had chained me here, obviously found it difficult for me to be chained up when thick metal braces were already covering my wrists.

Now, not just my arms, but my wrists ached too. I sighed and stretched my arms up straight above my head, trying to take all the weight off my slacking wrists. Did these people not know that I needed those braces?

I could feel the rust of these shackles clamping onto the delicate skin of my wrist. I tried not to move them. I found that I could put my hands together. I lightly rubbed my fingers of my right hand against my left wrist—or, what I could reach through the shackles. I could feel the thick, red lines I knew would never heal. Years ago this happened and they yet the red flesh still felt soft and flimsy. I switched hands, rubbing my right with my left.

The red line ran all the way around my wrist. When I had jerked against the chains years ago, I did more than break my bones. I had torn the flesh all around my hand. My skin was just a glove around my hand, not actually connected. The wrist braces had kept it all together. These shackles were doing nothing.

In all my worrying, the ache of my arms became bearable.

"SHUT UP!"

The piercing sound made me jump and I cursed because that caused my wrists to move, which caused the thin red line to pull and blood trickled down my arms.

"HEY!" a voice yelled, an alto, feminine. Protecting whoever the first words were yelled at. Then her voice dropped so I could only make out a few muffles, not actual words. But I could still hear the threat.

I could see feet under the thick crack of the door. I knew I couldn't see all the people because I heard a bunch of different voices murmuring. But I could see a few. They were small—far away—and I could tell this argument wasn't about me.

"Stop protecting him!" The first voice shouted again.

"You know he's our friend," A voice that was deeper than the first, but not quite a tenor, spoke up, his voice heated, "We're not going to stand by while you scream worthless things at him for your own selfish reasons." I recognized the voice. I had heard it before. Axel…

"I didn't mean…" The voice was softer than the others, I had to stretch to hear. It was ashamed, embraced, and something else, too. Afraid? That didn't make sense.

"Calm down," A voice of reason spoke up, something about it told me he was younger than the others.

"Shut up!" Another voice, obviously on the same side as the very first, yelled.

"He doesn't belong here, okay?" a new voice spoke, I couldn't place its tone, "We all know that he doesn't belong here."

"Exactly," Another agreed.

"That's not for you to decide!" The second voice, the feminine one, screamed at the others.

"Listen," Axel—I was getting better at placing his voice—screamed at the others, claiming attention, "You have a problem with Number Nine, you take it up with One. Don't sit here on your butt and whine to me, got it?"

Then I realized what was going on. The voice that I had heard before, the softer one, was making enemies. But, these enemies and him were all part of the same group. Ah, but this soft voice did not want them to be enemies, but they still didn't like him. And his few friends were defending him. I understood.

I could hear a light shuffling sound—footsteps. They didn't walk long before I heard them turn back.

Then the first voice spoke, "At least I can find my place here," A _woosh_ cut through the air and signaled an accusing finger being jabbed at the soft voice, "But you," yes, it was being told to the soft speaker, "You will_ never_ belong," he emphasized the _never_ with a thick disgusted voice.

A stillness came over the crowd—an awkward silence. I knew the speaker still pointed furiously at the one Axel called 'Number Nine'.

I heard a quiet huff—air exhaled sharply—by the feminine voice. And then boots squeaking against the floor—a lunge.

I heard a quick shuffling and my mind scrambled to try and put a picture to match the sounds I couldn't fully make out. A shift in weight, a sudden run, a movement of ducking—dodging… but these were all guesses. It wasn't until someone spoke that I understood anything.

"Bruixe!" I heard Axel's sharp bark, an order—or warning—for her to stop. But, would this free-willed female listen to Axel? Even if she was supposed to follow his order? I doubted it.

That's when all the other sudden-movement sounds made sense. Axel alone couldn't stop this girl if she were _really_ motivated to punch someone. I could tell by her threats and rough voice that she was tough. The sudden movements belonged to everyone who supported the 'Number Nine'. They were holding her back.

"It's not worth it," The younger, more innocent voice-of-reason told her calmly.

She—Bruixe, she had been called—huffed again. She disagreed. She would soak all that man's pain in. She would not regret it.

"Bruixe, not here, not now," A deeper voice told her. I recognized this one too. Xaldin. I remembered Xaldin's thick build. Surely it didn't take Axel _and _this big man to hold back a tiny motivated girl…?

"Please, B?" the softer voice pleaded, Number Nine, "Don't get in trouble over me. Please?" he seemed begging. Like a child after it had been reprimanded and asking forgiveness.

Ah, the girl had a weak spot. Maybe not a _weakness_, but at least something could talk reason into her ruthless actions.

"Fine," she gave in to the pleading voice, but her voice was still sour when she spoke to the first man, "But next time you better watch it. I will punch you straight in the middle of that ridiculous scar, got it?"

I could hear Axel laugh. He _laughed_, "And I won't hold her back. Hell, I might even join her."

I wasn't sure what it was, but a sound echoed and I realized that it signaled the exit of the ones against Number Nine.

"You okay?" someone who hadn't spoken before asked.

"Fine," Number Nine answered, "Don't worry, really. I'm just going to my room."

And that voice left the room.

"Poor kid," Axel mumbled, "He is more human than any of us and he's the one getting everything he doesn't deserve."

"I know. That's what makes _them _so horrible," Bruixe had spat 'them' as if it were a curse.

I could hear footsteps and I knew the strange quarrel was over. I heard footsteps slowly drown out and I was pretty sure I was alone again. I would rather the fight have lasted. Now nothing could distract me from the pain.

A few minutes passed and I heard footsteps. Not footsteps _coming_, they were already there. Someone hadn't left yet. The footsteps came closer and I held my breath.

The door cracked open and I saw a cloaked figure walk in. Maybe everyone here had the same uniform, like Axel and Xaldin. Like… a club? No, that didn't fit these people's hostile actions. A cult? Seemed too strong a word. An organization. That seemed to fit best.

The figure reached up and pulled down on something that clicked. This let the lights come on. Not really lights, just light. One. Just a small dim bulb that swung from one long string. Maybe the lack of light kept with the dungeon effect. I mean, they seemed to have the stone-wall thing down. And the shackles really put the icing on the cake.

The figure didn't seem to notice me. It pressed one long, thin finger to its temple and sighed. It walked a few steps and leaned on one of the boxes I couldn't make out before. It was just a simple cardboard box. Its contents were unknown to me.

My shackles jingled and the figure jumped.

"Oh," she—I recognized who it was now—breathed and jumped.

I just sat as still as I could, looking at her. Bruixe.

She shook her head and then let her hood fall down. She had long black hair and she raked a hand back through it—it looked like something she did only when she was stressed.

She smiled to herself and then looked at me. She tossed up a hand, "Hey."

My eyes shifted, shocked.

"Hah," she chuckled, "You look just like him."

"Who?" my voice was raspy when I spoke, I hadn't talked in a while.

Her smile widened, "You sound like him, too," she walked over and opened the bars of my cell. She casually walked up to me and her hand ruffled my hair, "And the same spiky hair," she chuckled again, then shook her head, "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," I dismissed the topic on her request.

"Hey," she thought of something and plopped herself on one of the boxes closer to me. I guess she wanted to talk, "How old are you?"

"Um," I felt stupid. I actually didn't know, "Uh… about… 13? 14, maybe." I felt my face getting hot, "I'm not sure. Bet you think I'm a freak, huh? I don't even know my age."

"Naa," she tossed a hand in dismissal, "Doesn't matter to me. I just was wondering. Waterboy seems older than that. Maybe he's not. Maybe I'm just calling him immature because I put the face and age together wrong. He _does_ act like a 14 year old. But he sure doesn't look it."

I didn't understand the topic, so I suggested another, "What are you? I mean, the cloaked people."

"Oh, we're an Organization," she shrugged, "I'm not really here by choice, I guess. We were all kind of… chosen, I guess you'd call it. I'm not really sure. I'm still kind of new. Name's Bruixe."

"Deym," I introduced myself, "Organization?" I repeated.

"Organization 13," she completed, "We all have numbers."

"What are you?" I had imagined, with the edge she had displayed out there, she would be a high number.

"Fourteen," she stated, "The Twilight Avenger."

I laughed. For two reasons. One, fourteen was her number which was the furthest thing I imagined for her. Two, avenger was so perfect I was surprised I hadn't described her that way myself.

My laughing stopped short and my eyes widened in surprise.

"What?" she looked around, making sure no one came in or anything. She saw nothing and looked back at me, "Do I have something in my teeth or something?"

"I…" I began, "I just laughed."

She didn't understand. I guess I wouldn't either if I were in her shoes. So what if I laughed?

"I mean," I tried to explain, "I haven't laughed in so long," I closed my eyes.

"Why not?" she asked, curious, "Waterboy laughs all the time. I figured you would too, you know?"

Actually, I didn't know anything she was talking about, but I nodded, "I don't know. I'm just… different I guess."

This seemed funny to her, "I already knew that. You're just like him. And he's somethin' else, let me tell you."

"Axel…" I spoke slowly, "He… is your friend?" I asked.

Her smile faded, "You heard all that? I guess we were being kind of loud, huh? Yeah, I guess we're friends. More friends than anyone else in this joint. I'm tighter with him than anyone else here, even though he deserves to be punched every now and then."

"He is… interesting," I admitted.

She laughed, "So Waterboy speaks. He never voices how he truly feels about everyone. I know this because he says the Freeshooter is a 'nice guy'."

"I don't really know Axel," I spoke up, as if I needed to defend this 'Waterboy' she kept comparing me to.

She smiled as if I just proved her point about this 'Waterboy' always saying nice things about people, "Axel is right about one thing though," she admitted, "I don't think I could kill you even if I wanted to."

"I guess that's… good for me," I smirked.

"Oh, God," she gasped and I jumped.

I hated when I jumped. The loose skin around my wrist pulled again, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

"What'd they do to you?" she demanded, getting to her feet. I noticed she was looking at my wrists for the first time.

"They didn't do anything," I told her.

"Don't hold back just cause you think I'm going to defend them," she snapped at me.

I heard a click and the shackles released my wrists. I let them fall, and I steered them so they laid in my lap. I moaned softly as my muscles screamed from being forced in a flex. My arms prickled as the blood forced itself back through.

"They really didn't do anything," I told her after I was able to speak through the pain, "a few years ago, I was in chains like these. I had jerked against them so hard that I had broken both my wrists in the process, as well as tear the skin all the way around them. I wore these big metal braces around my wrists to basically keep my hands from falling off. So, I guess these shackles couldn't fit over my braces and so… here we are."

"What happened to you then?" she asked, curious, "I mean, to make you want to get out so bad… It had to have been worse than here because you seemed pretty relaxed."

I sighed, "I don't really like talking about it. But…" I yanked up my shirt so my chest was exposed. I lifted it just high enough for her to see the deep lines that had been burned into me—Francis' symbol.

She didn't say anything, she just stared at the symbol, "Forsaken," she read the perfect script along the side of the shield.

"Yeah," I put my shirt back down and leaned heavily against the stone wall.

"I can't understand why Waterboy is so happy then," she thought out loud, "You don't seem very happy."

I went along with it, even though I didn't understand it, "Maybe he acts like I used to. Before…" I trailed off, refusing to remember, "I wasn't always like this. I used to be happy. All the time. I had no reason not to be happy. But… things change."

"I know," she nodded to herself—her own experiences.

"Yeah. It kinda sucks," I smirked at the bland understatement, and she did too.

"Don't give up, though. If you give up on happiness, Waterboy might too. And, you know, I think if that happened I'd just have to kill someone," she laughed as if it were a joke but I couldn't help thinking there was a little bit of truth in those words, "Just cause yesterday's gone, doesnt mean tomorrow can't be changed."

"Huh?" I stared at her.

She looked at me, her silver eyes gleamed, "It's your life. Don't let it be run by someone else, okay?"

I didn't answer.

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**review please :D**


	11. Chapter 11

update! i hope you like it. oh, and sorry, Jo. i lied. the things i told you happens in the next chapter. well, some of it happens in this one, but some in the next... just read. lol.

**enjoy! read and review**

* * *

_so you want to get the best of me?  
you better be all that you can be  
i've got a lot more than you at stake  
if it's my life you wanna take_

_stand up, stand up,  
we wont back down  
hold on,  
they're coming for us  
right now_

_-far from over By Kids in the Way  
_

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**Chapter 11  
Escape**

I had set in silence for hours upon hours and I still couldn't understand everything running through my mind. Everything was so jumbled, I didn't know what _to_ think. I leaned back against the wall and let my eyes close. It had been a while now—maybe even days—since Bruixe and I had talked. I missed her company.

"_Oh," _she had said _"You hear that?" _

_She cocked her head and listened._

"_Footsteps," she noticed, "I shouldn't be here." She stood up and with a wave of her hand created a swirling dark portal. She turned back to me and placed her finger to her lips, an order for me to be quiet, "Don't tell them I was here, okay? And, try not to miss me too much." She chuckled and then disappeared through the strange dark ball._

The footsteps she had heard just walked past my cell, not really caring. Since then, nothing had really happened. Only my own thoughts floated around the dissolute room.

I had probably been kept in this place for days, maybe weeks. And they didn't bother to feed me. I wasn't sure if this was really their plan, to starve me to death, but if it was they were succeeding.

Then it hit me. Bruixe knew I was here. She was one of them. She had to have known their plan. _Don't tell them I was here, okay?_ Of course I couldn't tell them who was here if someone had come that day. She had unlocked me, opened my prison cell.

She had let me go.

I stood up, my legs giving out from lack of use. I caught myself on the wall and slowly tested my weight. I was able to hold myself up this time. I slipped out of my cell and over to the door. I peeked under the crack at the bottom and couldn't see any feet. I slowly opened the door and closed it silently behind me. I was surprised no guards were around, but I didn't let paranoia take over.

I walked along the wall as I traveled down the empty white hallways. I wasn't sure where I was, but the worst part about it was the lack of hiding space. I had to step lightly on the white floor because everything here echoed. I moved as quickly and quietly as possible.

"And you're going where, now?" a voice stole my attention and made me jump.

"Axel," I breathed, recognizing the voice, "I… I was…"

"Save it," he threw up a hand, "I don't really care. But…" he pulled something out from behind him, "I think you might need these."

"My braces," I looked at the thick metal in his hands. He tossed the metal to me and I clasped them around each wrist, "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," he threw a hand up, dismissing the praise, "Just get out of here before I get in trouble."

"There he is!" a different voice yelled.

Quickly, Axel tensed and drew his weapons. His friendly green eyes turned hostile and glared at me. I looked at him, surprised. Then he gave a short, swift nod at me. And I understood. Of course he had to pretend he was going to stop me. What other choice did he have? I backed up, playing my part, and looked like I was trying to get away.

"I got him!" a different voice yelled, from behind me.

"Hurry, Axel!" another yelled.

How many of them were there? Sure, they were 'Organization XIII' but Bruixe was 14. So, how many_ were_ there?

I drew my Tonfas for the first time in weeks. They didn't burden me and I found comfort in their added weight. I looked around and saw 3 new people surrounding me, all their hoods up.

"Axel," some one barked as if he was giving a silent order. Axel looked at the speaker and nodded once. Then he ran down the hallway away from the battle. Something in the way Axel responded told me that I didn't have much time before escape would be impossible. He was going to get more recruits. I had to hurry.

I shifted the Tonfas into an offensive position, lunged forward at the closest target, and let the sharp blades pierce into the figure. The blades only got an inch or so into the cloak and then a little poke into a skin on the other side, but before they could reach their full potential, a large scythe jabbed into my side and sent me flying away from who my attack was directed at.

The person I had hit swiped a hand over the cut, as if dusting it off, and then gave a frustrated huff. The voice was feminine, but not Bruixe. Eight short knives appeared in her hands, she held one between each knuckle with her hands coiled into fists. She lunged at me, but I was faster.

She threw one set of daggers but kept the other set in her fist. I dodged the first attack easily. She was in the air, a full-out lunge, and I caught her wrist before the knives could come in contact with my face, which was obviously her target. Her feet hit the ground in awkward pounds, her aril attack thrown off balance by my own skill. She cursed under her breath and with one swift motion, I flipped her onto the ground and tossed her aside.

A large beam caught my eye and it cut through a part of my shirt and grazed the skin on the other side. I shifted to an offensive position. The new figure held two weapons that resembled guns. He shot another red beam at me and I yanked up my Tonfas so the shot bounced off. I stammered back at the hard impact but otherwise didn't feel much.

Until I fell back into another organization member. I looked and couldn't make out what I saw. All I knew was it was huge, it was red, it was furious, and I was it's target. I jumped back, more afraid than I had been in a while. I dodged the quick streaks of red in the sky as the large weapon was swung at me over and over. Under all my nerves, I was amazed that someone could whip this grand weapon around as if were nothing. I wanted to avoid whoever the bearer was even more than the weapon. I ducked under the red flash and before it could come to a backswing, I twisted around so I was behind the keeper. And I was right, he was huge. Not sure if it would even do much, I sliced my Tonfas down the huge intimidating back of the muscle man. He roared and pain and fell to the floor.

I saw the pink scythe swinging once again for my body. It caught a piece of my arm, but it just clanked against the strong metal of my brace. I quickly scooted in dodges. I kept to the beat of my heart as I kept a steady rhythm of motions in my head. I changed the musical phrases of my movements every four heart beats—four four time. The figure seemed to noticed what I was doing and he switched his scythe and hit at random, untamed intervals. I switched to six eight time. That was fun.

I listened as my heart sped with every dodge and started counting the six eight in two's. One, two. One, two. One, two. My movement were faster and harder to predict. Then others joined the slow figure. I danced across the battlefield, dodging the familiar knives, the strange beams, the scythe, and a new weapon which was a shield. It was strange, dodging a shield. Weren't those mainly defensive? Whatever this shield was, it was the most offensive shield I'd ever seen.

I kept up my triplet dodges until I was short of breath. Obviously, playing it on the defensive wasn't going to get me out of here. At lease Axel hadn't come back with the backup yet. I didn't know how to get out of the dodging process though. Each time an attack missed, I glided into the line of another, and so on. I didn't get hit, but I couldn't keep this up forever.

Finally, I missed a beat. I tripped up and my feet tangled under me. I fell forward and the powerful full swing of the scythe knocked me back upright and sent me crashing into the ground backwards. I could feel the hot blood pulse through the new opening on my stomach. I tried to sit up, but when I moved my pain shook my frame. I let out a quick breath and pushed past the pain. I was able to get myself upright, only to get knocked down again. The girl I had taken down so easily before wanted payback. She was standing over me and as soon as I was up enough so my stomach wasn't writhing in pain, she sent a hard jab straight into the wound.

I crashed back into the ground and couldn't help but cry out in pain. The wound was deep. And her punch was weak. I could have easily taken that, I wouldn't even had stumbled. I would have probably ended up countering it and she'd be down for the count. But her little scythe-man kept me so weak that even she could hurt me.

I saw the girl coming back again. She stood tall over me, let her hood down, and stared at me with piercing eyes. I almost laughed at her stupid hair style, but I was able to pull out with just a smile.

"You think something's _funny_?" she scoffed and pulled her hands into fists, summoning the knives, "I'll show you something that I think is_ funny_."

I didn't really find her voice threatening. Not the way Bruixe's voice could be.

"Bring it," I spat, my voice was ice, "I dare you. Show me what you got, honey."

Her eyes narrowed, furious with my reaction. I was, after all, the one in the fatal spot. Not doubt even she, weak as she was, could kill me now.

Francis would be disappointed if he saw me like this. Funny how I worried about his opinion in my final hour. No, not funny, I think the word I'm looking for is _sickening_. Yes, that's much better. Still, I couldn't stop my heart from feeling a sting of pain as I thought of all the time he had helped me train. I was who I was because of him. Sure, I hated myself for it all, hated a lot of what I did. But, he was also the reason I could fight. He was the reason I could bring Marik back. After all the wrongs, Francis had done a few rights. And I owed him something, even if it was a little thing. I owed him, as his apprentice, to not be taken down like this. He deserved to be represented by someone better than me, even if he did kill my dad.

Really, my whole life I had been wanted him to accept me. _Francis!_ I had wanted him to be my father because I no longer had one. When he rejected me, it felt like a father rejecting a son. It amazed me how even though I always snapped at him and tried to show him how much I hated him, I just wanted him to love me. I wanted him to think of me as a son, to be proud of me. I tried to be what he wanted me to be. I kept trying to be his definition of pefect, that's why I pushed myself so hard in training. I had been ignoring him lately, and I felt guilty for that.

That's when it was decided. If they wanted to take me down, they would have to put up a fight.

Without warning, I cast a water spell. I whipped the water of the air and it zipped around. It seperated into two waved and it clashed two figures together. I laughed as they seemed surprised. Did they think I would go down so easily? I sent another wave crashing over the other member, the big one. I crashed it down hard over him so he would go down. Yes!

I had almost forgotten the girl.

I snapped back to reality and saw her fist coming for me. I snapped my hands up and caught her wrist between my two much-bigger hands. Her eyes opened in surprise when she found that I was so fast I could catch her in mid-punch.

I studied the scene, me holding her offence and keeping myself safe. Now, where had I seen this before? All I had to do was flip her onto the ground and it would be a complete repeat of our first encounter. Did this chick ever learn? I laughed to myself.

"What?" she hissed, obviously irritated.

"Hey, are you having Deja'vu?" I asked with a chuckle, "Cause I swear I've seen this before."

She gave a loud huff of annoyance and muttered something under her breath. And with one swift motion, too fast for me to respond, she sent her other fist, knives drawn, into my stomach.

I gasped in pain and released her hand quickly. I folded both arms over my stomach and rolled over to my side.

"He's more of a pain than that stupid boy's music," the girl said as she gritted her teeth.

"And he's stronger," a deeper voice noted. I guess they were all back up now. The water didnt hold them off for too long.

"I don't care," the girl interrupted, "I just want to kill him."

"Alright," someone agreed, the scythe man.

I twisted to look up and saw the girl and the cloaked figure standing over me. I glared up at them with hard eyes. They laughed. "It will be over soon," one of them mocked, "Maybe."

I clamped my eyes closed and waited for the end.

It never came.

I heard a strange cry of pain and I snapped up to look at what the cause was. I saw a portal disappearing and I dark gangly figuring standing in front of me, protecting me. I forced myself up again, my stomach protesting the whole time. I wiped my eyes, unable to believe them.

The figure held his hand out to the side and a sword was summoned.

"I know you're not trying to kill **my** apprentice," his voice was monotone but sent shivers down their spines. I could see the girl look to the ground as the intimidating figure continued, "Because if you killed him, that would make me very unhappy," he reached up to the girl and pulled her chin up so she would look him in the eye, "Do you want me to be unhappy?"

_Francis…_

"N-no," she shuddered and I saw pure pain in her eyes. The other figures stood with in a defensive position and I imagined the same expression on all their faces.

I didn't understand. Why were they so afraid of him? More than that, why were they so _submissive_?

"That's a good girl," he gave her a wicked smirk and let her go.

The man with the scythe and the man with the shield stepped forward, both tensed to fight.

Francis sighed, "…Really?"

Their only response was switching their weapons in what I assumed to be the offensive position.

"Very well," Francis nodded and held his sword in front of him. Just by looking, I knew the girl wasn't going to test his fighting skills. She couldn't even take his words.

The fight was over in seconds. The scythe was swung in a blur, much faster than it had been swung at me. Francis hovered to the side, grabbed the scythe at the base of the blade, and yanked the scythe so the wielder fell forward. This all happened in less than a second. My eyes could hardly keep up. The scythe clattered to the floor and then Francis sliced his sword in a quick motion over the stomach of the man. I understood what he was doing. He mirrored the wound that the man had given me.

The man with the shield stepped forward and hurled his shield so that the large spikes on the tips would slice through Francis. Francis moved as the shield came down with such grand a force that the bottom blade stuck into the floor.

Francis laughed, "You need some work, young one." And he gave that man the same wound.

I heard footsteps and soon Axel appeared with three others at his side, Bruixe was one of the three. Francis looked at them for a second with his piercing yellow eyes. Every one of them cringed away, terrified as the girl had been earlier.

Francis smirked, "That's what I thought."

He came closer to me and then held out a hand. I took it and he yanked me to my feet.

Francis created a portal and pulled me through, "Let's go, Deym. You have no future worth living, here."

I swear before the portal closed, I could hear one faint voice whisper, "That's not true, Waterboy…"

* * *

Xemnas rubbed his temple, "And how did the boy escape in the first place?"

"It was Axel's shift to watch the door," someone mumbled.

"No way," Axel threw his hands up, "Don't pin it on me. My shift was just over. I had just told Vexen it was his turn."

"Oh, so you're saying it's my fault?" Vexen scoffed, offended.

"Well… yeah, that's pretty much what I'm saying," Axel nodded then nudged Roxas, "See? I told you Vexen wasn't _that_ stupid."

"You," Marluxia spoke up and pointed at Axel, "I sent you to get help! Where were you? You showed up with the aggressive Avenger and the kid only, a little too late! He was gone by the time you got there!"

"Um, excuse me," Axel corrected, "I believe he was _leaving_ when I got there. He wasn't gone yet."

"As if that helps your case," Xigbar huffed.

"Calm down," Xemnas bellowed, "I'm not asking you to pin it on someone and be immature little tattle-tales. I want to know how he escaped."

"Well," Bruixe spoke up, "I _might_ have loosened his shackles a little."

"Why?" Xemnas asked, once again rubbing his temple.

"Well," Bruixe rolled her eyes as if the answer was obvious, "Apparently someone should have told me not to. I mean, how was I supposed to know he could get out with just a little shackle-loosening?"

Xemnas closed his eyes as he spoke, channeling his anger, "Those. Doors. Don't. Lock."

"Those doors don't lock?" Bruixe repeated in a question, "Why don't the doors on a freaking _dungeon_ not lock? I mean, if you ask me, it sounds rather… pointless to have a dungeon that doesn't lock."

"We don't feel the need to lock the door when the prisoner is so tightly locked up," Saïx explained as if she were incapable of comprehending anything of value. She glared at him, a icy death glare.

"So, what you're telling me is that he just _walked out_ of our hands?" Xemnas asked, the anger rising.

"No," Roxas spoke up, "I think what she's telling you is that we need some locks for our doors."

Axel and Bruixe couldn't hold back a laugh and a few others laughed too. Axel slapped Roxas a high five.

"Hardly the time Thirteen," Xemnas warned and Roxas took the hint.

"Where is Demyx anyway?" Zexion asked.

"On a mission," Xemnas answered.

A few moans echoed the room and someone asked, "So, who wants to go save the mission?"

"Relax," Xemnas interrupted, "I didn't really send him on a mission, I just sent him away. As long as his other was here, it'd be best that he wasn't. But now that Deym is gone, I guess he'll be back anytime."

Eventually, the whole story was explained. And, because the members put up a fight, no one was punished. Everyone stepped out the room and was talking among themselves.

"So," Axel spoke up loud enough so everyone could hear. He rubbed his hands together in an excited motion, "Who wants to come with me to the lock smith?"

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**review please :D**


	12. Chapter 12

super sorry it's taken so long! anywhoo... happy whatever-the-last-holiday-was-that-i-didnt-get-you-something jo! ;D_

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_

_The days I spent so cold so hungry,  
Were full of hate,  
And I was so angry,  
The scars run deep inside this tattooed body,  
There's things I'll take to my grave,  
But I'm okay…I'm okay…_

_and sometimes i forgive  
but this time i'll admit  
that i miss you...i miss you  
hey, Dad..._

-Hey Dad by Good Charlotte

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 12  
Second Place isnt so bad**

I placed both my hands in a steady river, cupped them together, and pulled the clear liquid to my lips. I repeated this motion quite a few times before my thirst was clenched. I had been starving in that dungeon for too long. I cupped the water once more and then placed the cup over my face. I felt the sweet liquid slip through my fingers and fall down my face. I repeated the motion a few times.

I got up and sat down on a boulder that jutted out over the water. It almost looked like a natural half-bridge, it didn't reach to the other side of the river. I sat on the extension and let my feet dangle down over the rushing water. I swung my feet and stretched them, flexing my feet and calves.

I looked to my right and across the other half of the river Francis was sitting on the bank, his knees hugged to his chest, and he watched the water float by. He looked older than I remember, but, then again, a lot of time has passed since I really cared. His back was boney and hunched, his arms relaxed as they draped over his knees. His face was wrinkled and shallow with large black bags under both eyes. His eyes were paler—even though I thought it was impossible for those eyes to be paler than they were. They watched the water in slow, sluggish movements and when the light of the moon reflected in his eyes, it was dull. Hadn't those been the eyes that I just saw cut through the souls of those organization members? Here, they didn't look so scary, just worn out.

He reached down and pulled up a dark stick—his sword, I realized. He held it out, testing the long thin blade, and ran a boney finger down to the handle. He let it fall back to the ground, but it wasn't dismissed.

I pulled my legs to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. My eyes followed the flickers of light the moon projected off the swirling river. For the first time in a long time, I felt like my mind was clear. I let my eyes slip closed and just enjoyed the moment I knew couldn't last. I let the breeze ruffle through my hair and drank in the scent of the rich forest. Such a clear mind… too bad it couldn't last.

I opened my eyes slowly and prepared for the words that I knew I had to say. The exact same words that I knew would take away my clear mind and send it plunging back into the abyss it's been struggling in for years.

But the words simply had to be said.

"You know…" I began, my voice soft. My tongue rubbed against the roof of my mouth, as if begging me not to say another word. To stop now and be able to keep my head above for a while longer…

But I pressed forward.

"I was never good enough for you, was I?" I let out a laugh.

"Excuse me?" Francis looked up, wanting me to clarify, his grey eyebrows pulling down over his pale eyes.

But I was in hysterias. I couldn't talk, I just laughed. I _laughed_. My body shook with laughter as all the pieces started to fit together. I felt tears streaming down my face while I just laughed and laughed and laughed.

"Deym," Francis stood up and bounced across the river, once again surprising me with his agility, "What did they do to you in there? Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

He looked like a new father stressing over nothing. An _old _father, but still a father—maybe a new grandfather. Which just added to my laughter.

"I'm fine!" I cried, bursting into another fit of laughter.

"I'm going to get someone—anyone to help. I know they did something to you. I just—" he started to turn, mumbling to himself.

My face turned from bliss to ice in seconds. I crushed his wrist in my grip, forcing him to stay right here. I could see my knuckles were white from the tight grip and his hand was slowly fading to a purple. But I didn't care.

"No. I'm fine." I spat through clenched teeth, "Sit. I need to talk to you."

Francis sighed and muttered something like _'I knew that child was bi polar, but this is insane.'_ I ignored it as he obeyed my orders anyway.

As he sat down, I stood up. I cleared my throat and began pacing. I wasn't sure how to start, so I just picked a random thought in my head and flung it out.

"All that talk about me hating you, well, I'm not saying that was a lie, but I'm also not saying it was true. 'I hate you' was kind of a… cover up. Because I didn't know what to think, I just blurted out the emotion closest to what I was feeling," I could feel myself smiling and adding a brightness to the conversation that was misplaced. The words scattering my mind were hard and fatal, but the way I said them made them happy and even comical. I was still in hysterias.

"You're not making sense," Francis interrupted.

I held up my index finger to my mouth, signaling him to stop talking and listen. I frowned, a quick frown, and then tried to put my brain back in place. This was all wrong. I wasn't supposed to be in a fit of laughter when I told him this. I was supposed to be firm and serious and hostile. Not laughing and smiling and acting like a complete idiot.

I focused on all the thoughts in my head for a good ten minutes straight. As the time passed, so did my hysteria. I could feel my face darkening and the smile wiped away. The pain my stomach once had from laughing turned into a churning of distain. My eyes hardened and my whole existence seemed to darken.

Francis noticed the changes. I could see him shaking slightly, but other than that he hid his fear of my state well.

Francis' mouth dropped open for a second, like he was going to say something.

"Shut up!" I sneered and his jaw snapped shut.

My anger was on a sturdy incline and it wasn't calming down soon. Just the sight of That Man made me want to scream. And now everything was put back the way it was a few weeks ago. I was back to referring to Francis as "That Man". Just thinking his name made my blood boil. I was about to explode and I wasn't sure who all I would kill in the process.

I forced my voice into a whisper, but the rage slipped out with every hiss, "Now, you will listen and you will grasp everything I say."

His eyes widened, he had never seen me like this before. He had never seen me truly mad. He had never seen me as much of anything. But I'll show him how wrong he was.

"I am so sick of you telling me what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. I'm tired of you prancing all over me and tricking me into doing things that I'll regret," I heaved out a laugh, but there was no humor behind it, "And to think I actually wanted you as a father!" I practically screamed, "What good would have ever come from that? What could have been different? I hate feeling like this. You sit there and tear me down so much, I can't stand it!" I felt my hands coil into fists, "I can't take it!"

He looked up to me with concern. Like he couldn't understand what I was saying.

"All this time I've been trying to be what _you_ asked of me. And for what? Do you know? Cause I sure don't!" I didn't wait for him to answer, "I was branded, beaten, and I even killed myself once because I wanted you to think better of me. I wanted you to notice that I was the closest thing you would ever have to a family and I wanted you to think of me as your own son. I wanted you as a father because I no longer have one!" I heaved out, catching my breath and letting every word soak in, "I wanted you to be proud of me. YOU! I wanted the man that took my family away, tore them apart, to accept me. You, of all people, I waned _you_ to be my father! Every single time you broke me down, I just wanted to try harder. Did you even notice? My leaps in training, my excel in fighting, it was all for you! _Father_! I want _my _father back! I want him back! I don't want you!" tears spilled over and my knees collapsed. I sent a swift hard punch onto the boulder I was collapsed on. My knuckles cracked and the rock opened a fresh wound, "Give him back to me!"

I felt That Man's eyes on me and saw him stand in my peripheral vision. I didn't move. My body tensed—a natural reaction.

"I can't bring your dad back, Deym," he spoke softly and then knelt by my side, "But, I think you should have this."

I looked in his direction and saw him reaching for his boot. He reached just inside the tongue of the boot and pulled out a short dagger that was protected in a blue sleeve. I eyed the dagger and my eyebrows pulled down in confusion. What did this little knife do? Did he really think I'd actually want to fight with that little thing?

"Look," he told me, gentle.

I looked harder at the blue sleeve the dagger was in. Scribbled on the side, were three words.

"To: My Nocturne"

Tears filled my eyes as I remembered the nickname from my childhood. The name my father called me. _Nocturne._

"_No, silly," my father had laughed, "Not a _guitar_ this is a _sitar_."_

"_Oh," I awed, plucking one of the strings of the beautiful instrument, "But, Don't sitars usually have a real long, stubby neck? And then a short, puffy, rounded bottom?" this wasn't like the other sitars I'd seen in the music shops around our town. _

"_Oh, this one is special, my Nocturne. This one has a more… originality. But, either way, look," he pointed to the neck that curved, jutted out to points, then curved back, "It still has a long neck," then his pointed finger moved down to the base, "And it still has a stubby bottom, just a little more original touch is all."_

"_It's brown," I had noticed, running my finger along the base of the polished sitar Dad had made._

"_What other color would you have it, my Nocturne?" he asked, curious._

_I thought it over, "…Blue," I nodded approval at my own answer, "And maybe have it jut out into spikes at the very top where the tuners for the strings are."_

_Dad bellowed a laugh and scooped me into his arms, "What an imagination you have!" he seemed to be cheering, encouraging my creative mind, "Now, where do you propose I go and look for blue wood?"_

_I let out a laugh and shrugged, "Dad?" I asked, changing the subject, "What does Nocturne mean?" _

"_Hmm?" he hummed, as if he didn't understand the question._

"_That's what you call me. 'Nocturne'. What's it mean?" I repeated._

"_A nocturne is a type of piece of music and is usually played on the piano.. It's a composition that suggests a peaceful mood." He explained then sighed at a memory, "I remember the day I first started calling you that. I'd always play piano in my own modifications of a parent 'singing' their child to sleep. And every night I would ask you what you wanted me to play and you'd say 'Cho-pin! Cho-pin!'. Chopin has always been your favorite, hasn't it?" he asked the question but didn't pause for me to answer—he knew Chopin was my absolute favorite, "Though I've always been fond of Beethoven, you loved Chopin. And Chopin is famous for writing nocturnes. Your favorite piece by him is a Nocturne. And one night you mom said 'my, how Deym is turning out to be a musician!'. I just smiled and watched you tap your fingers—keeping rhythm at such a young age. That's when it hit me. You loved Nocturnes, and you were like my own Nocturne. My youngest son, happy and joyous—like a dreamy nocturne. And the name has stuck ever since."_

I took the dagger with shaky hands. I wrapped both hands around the sleeve and cradled it in my arms—I wouldn't let it go. This blade, the one meant for me, was the exact same blade that had taken my father's life. I slowly took the blade out—only about an inch to peek—and I saw the rusty, dried blood still on the blade. I shuttered and shoved the dagger back into the sleeve. Cradling the dagger again, I stood up.

My eyes overflowed with tears as I looked up at That Man. He looked back at me with caution—as if he was awaiting a judgment.

Through all the years of hating him and looking up to him, I never thought he'd look like this. He was concerned and cautious—fragile. For the first time he looked like… a _father_.

Maybe not my father—no one could ever replace my father—but he could be a father-figure. Someone that I could look to. A man who would never come in first place, but could maybe pass off for second.

They always said 'never settle for second best'. But, did they ever consider that it was possible the best was unreachable? Not just too hard to reach, but altogether _impossible_ to reach. First place was no longer an option. No longer a luxury my silver-metal life could afford.

_Never settle for second best…_

I will settle for second place. Though it's not quite as good as first, it still has value. Silver is a fine place to have and a place I'd be proud to be in.

My first place was gone, and second place can never ever feel as right as first place would feel. But when first place falls out of the race, doesn't that mean that second becomes first?

I held my first-place dagger to my chest and felt it press against the brand of second place I had tattooed into my chest. Scars I carried with me ran deeper than a tattoo. These things I would carry with my until the day I died. I felt the weight of first place in my hands and the tears swelled in my eyes. First place was gone. But at lease I was fortunate enough to have first place, even if it was only for a short time. And I know, because of what I had and what I have, I'll be okay.

Because when I looked up, second place was right there, waiting for me.

The tears spilled over and without a word, I collapsed into him. I buried my face in his shirt and threw my arms around my second-place father's waist. I cried helplessly as I embraced him for the first time. No, second place was not bad. Second place cared for me. Maybe not as much as first place did, but any concern at all showed me I was wanted. I felt his boney arms hug me back, stroking my hair the way a father would when rocking his child to sleep. He had never been a father—this I was sure—but if he had ever had a son, I knew this is what he'd be like. Protective and gentle. Soft and loving.

No, a second place father was never as good as gold…

But second place isnt so bad.

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**review please :D**


	13. Chapter 13

wow. i updated. :D  
and if i forgot: DISCLAIMER! i dont own any of the KH characters i may use. and i do NOT own organization 13 though, they are amazing. i do own deym and francis and marik and pleo but i think that's kinda it for main characters. and props go to jo for a few of the characters in here. -cough- bruixe. -cough-

read and review. and above all else, enjoy. :D  
Jo: so i used--er mentioned--another one of your characters in this chapter. you'll see it, i'm sure. :D

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Pick up the phone,  
nobody's home,  
im all alone,  
we've all been here before,  
but yesterday  
i saw a change, another way,  
as you walked out the door,  
its a twist, a little but, i'll admit,  
but we're stronger than before,  
open up, we've had enough,  
we've had enough,  
now we're holdin on...  
and waiting  
-What Do We Know? --by Thousand Foot Krutch

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 13  
One's Own Breaking Point**

We arrived back home and I noticed the big empty dungeon felt even more emptier than usual.

"Where is Marik?" I asked, turning back to face Francis.

"He left," Francis answered slowly, as if trying to soften the blow, "He didn't think you were coming back so… he just up and left. And I couldn't make myself stop him."

I nodded slowly, accepting the truth. Not embracing it, but accepting it. I felt the stinging sensation as my eyes wanted to produce tears, but they refrained from doing so.

Marik was gone. Again. This was what? The third? The fourth time he's gone away? I should be used to it by now. If not used to it, at least a little numb. Too bad I'm not. I'd rather not feel any of these emotions anymore.

"Francis," I spoke his name slowly, not sure if I really wanted to know the answer to my question.

"Hm?" he looked up, almost surprised I had collected myself so fast, but kept his face straight.

"What happened back there?" I asked softly, "Why did that girl think you were so horrible?"

He chuckled, "I _am_ horrible. Maybe she just has good insight."

I frowned, "It was more than that."

"Yes," he nodded, "It was. But, then again, you've experienced it yourself. You should know exactly what I was doing."

"Experienced…it?" I repeated the words awkwardly.

"I have a gift, Deym," he explained, "Do you want to know what it is? It's rather... frightening. But, I think someone like you could appreciate it."

I waited for him to continue.

"As you can see, I'm getting old. I can't fight the way I used to," he sighed.

I couldn't help but smile a little.

"That's something I haven't seen," he was smiling back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

It was strange, seeing Francis smile. It was only strange because there was no wicked, dark joke to it. There was no darkness. It was a smile. A true, meaningful smile.

"That's something I haven't seen," I noted and nodded to his smile, but then turned the conversation back, "I don't know what you mean. You took both of those guys down with no problem. You're still ten times the fighter I am."

He nodded, "But, I've had years and years of practice. And, you didn't see me when I was at my best. And, my gift is always on my side."

I waited for him to continue again.

"You see, my mind has always been a little… _different_ than everyone else," he paused and took a deep breath.

"You're acting like it's hard to tell me," I noticed and looked down, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm afraid to tell you," he admitted, "Because… once you know, I think you might run away again."

I just waited.

He let out a breath that I didn't realize he had been holding, "My 'gift' is probably the reason I have become so strong without really having to try. I have the power to get inside people's heads. Make them feel what I want them to feel. Do you understand?"

I tried to comprehend that. _'You've experienced it'_ I remember him saying. He… _made _me feel? He _forced _me to feel what _he _wanted me to feel? How did that even work? Who else has he used this on? How do I know when he's using it?

When I didn't respond, he continued, "I wasn't really something I wanted. It was just like a character trait for me—it made everything easier. Like, being the first grandchild—you get spoiled rotten. It was like that for me, only I could control how often it happened. I could control how people felt about me, about another, about _everything. _Having this ability, needless to say, made my childhood a dreamland. I got everything I asked for simply because I could make anyone _want_ to give me anything.

"But, my gift is a trick of the mind, not a change of the heart. If someone truly had a bond in their heart, enough that they would die for it, that bond could not be touched, no matter what I made the people feel. To get what I wanted, I mostly had to target the weak-minded.

"I usually made people feel things for me like pity, guilt, or even obligation. It was all in their mind. But, of course, I couldn't make people simply love me. That was the worst part. I could make someone feel like they _should_ do things for me or give me things. I could make someone feel like it would be_ right_ to give me anything. But, I could never make them love me. Love was something only the heart could do, not the mind.

I remember, I was only about twelve… I was in the park—I had convinced my parents to let me go to the park through obligation that they were my parents and they had to do what was best for their son." He shook his head, "That was the only way my parents would do anything for me. If I made them feel _sorry _for me. If I made them feel like they _had_ to take care of me. If I could have one person, just one, on whom I could change their _heart_, it would have been my mother. I would have her love me, truly love me as her son.

"Anyway, I was at the park, and I was sitting on the swings. I watched as the other children raced around and played all together. I wondered why I was always the one sitting alone when so many kids were eager for friends. I watched this one family. The parents waited at the end of the slide as the child slipped down the slope and was caught up in his mothers arms. He giggled and laughed as his mother kissed his cheeks and his dad tickled his stomach. He was _loved._

I got so jealous of that child. He didn't have to do anything to make his parents act this way. Not the way I did, at least. He didn't have to work for love, it just came. I wanted that. But I knew I'd never have that. I could have anything in the world, but the one thing I wanted.

"My parents knew about my gift though. They knew what I did. And then, the hate for my gift ate at their heart. I'd make them feel guilty for things, and I would get reprimanded. 'Don't do that, Francis,' she would say, 'don't make me love you'. _Make_! She didn't even _want_ to love me. 'I can't' I would reply 'I can't make you love me'. But, she didn't believe that. She felt guilt and she thought my ability was the reason why she felt how she did.

"When the guilt of neglecting her son was still there, she got so mad at me. She didn't realize that I had stopped using my gift. She didn't realize that the guilt she now felt was her own. And it ate at her. 'Stop!' she would yell at me, 'Stop it now! I want you out of my head! I want you gone!' I tried to tell her that I had stopped using my gift, but she never listened. 'I'm not doing anything mommy, I'm not.'

But, under it all, I couldn't help but be happy. Though she thought it was me that made her feel guilt, it was really herself. I had tried to take away the guilt, reverse my power. But I couldn't. That's what made me happy. The guilt she felt was in her _heart_, not her mind. She deeply felt guilty for neglecting me. That had to mean she loved me, right? In at lease one small, microscopic way, she loved me. And that was all I wanted.

"Later on, I learned the one emotion of the mind that seemed to overthrow all other emotions. This one thing your mind twists and makes it look like it's connected to your heart. That's why I'd never tried to control it until I was around 14. Fear.

"Fear is something people associate with things that they love, though the fear itself isn't connected with the heart. Fear is all in your mind. Anxiety with a pinch of desperation. Most fears are only what people don't want to happen. It's like a conditional 'if this happens… then…' and you don't want the 'then' part to happen. But, until it _does_ happen, your fears are all a natural trick of your mind. A very impressive trick that I can control. Almost like the power of the great Councilor Isalena's key blade, Sekhmet.

"So, I learned to control people's fears. I learned that if people could be afraid of me, I could manipulate them enough so that I could use them as I pleased. Fear is a very controlling factor in a human's life. If people are afraid of what could happen, they will do anything to stop it from becoming a reality."

It took me a while, but I found my voice, "So, they were _afraid_ of you?"

"Yes," he nodded, but I could see it in the way their eyes flickered something was different, "But those in that organization are… different, kind of like me. They don't…feel things like others do. If they were 'normal' than those two males wouldn't have tried to fight back. They'd be aware of their growing fears and let me go without a word. The only ones who I can control in that group are the ones who pretend like their mind and hearts are connected. At least, that'd my guess. That always seems to be the case with their kind."

"Their kind?" I asked, repeating the strange way he had stated their existence.

"They're called Nobodies. They are beings without hearts. And since they don't have hearts, they aren't emotionally attached so they wouldn't be overcome by little emotions. They fought back," he looked like he didn't want to talk about it anymore, but I pressed further.

How dare he say something so arrogant?

"'They don't have hearts'" I repeated, "Why don't you go say that to _them_. Even if somehow they had _lost_ their heart, it doesn't mean they don't deserve one."

Bruixe, if no one else, deserved a heart. As well as Axel. The two who had helped me escape. The ones who, in my eyes, deserved a heart more than some people who do have hearts. The ones who deserved a heart more than I do. Surely they had something deeper than just nothingness inside them. I refused to believe that they don't have the right to have a heart. I refuse to believe that they are nothing more than useless bodies.

"You sound like you have a little worthless nobody friend," he chuckled.

I made my mind turn back to the conversation before my tongue of fire got me in trouble. I went back to the initial conversation.

"Have you… manipulated me?" I asked, my voice a whisper.

"Yes." A simple answer.

"But you can't touch my heart," I stated, more so I would find maybe a little comfort in the words.

"No, I can't." another simple answer.

"What have you done? What could you possibly have done to make my life change from what it would have been?" I asked, my voice ice.

"You are a very… strong person, Deym. That's the only way I know how to describe it. I can barely touch your mind, but there was one moment when I could. For that one moment, I could influence your future. You see, I'm a selfish person and I chose to do whatever needed to be done for you to be… 'on my side', if you will." He chose the words carefully.

"What did you do?" I demanded.

"Remember when I gave you my symbol? Do you remember that?" he asked.

"Of course!" I snapped. _Like I could forget _that_!_

"Well… You agreed. But, you were hesitant. That's the only time I have been able to have any influence over your mind. Though, on the outside, you looked like you had total control. You looked as if the choice to become my apprentice was all your own. And, maybe it could have been. But, you know, as you thought about what your answer would be, you had an argument in your head.

"I could feel the battle raging in your mind. So, I took over. In that short moment, while debating over what to do, you felt a twist of fear. You had a thought 'what will he do if I say no?' you thought 'will he take Marik away from me forever?' and you also thought 'if I say no, will he disappear and leave me completely alone?'"

I stared at him in disbelief. He was reading too deep. Shouldn't this be considered an invasion of privacy?

"I understand," I settled.

"I've been through a lot, Deym. My nightmares have become my reality. My life has done several one-eighty's. I've lost more than you have ever known, Deym. I've been so many more places and done so many more things than you have. I've walked this path so many times, held so many secrets, lost so many people…" the way he spoke made me realize there was so much about his past that I didn't know and that he would never tell, "Don't ever think for one second that you're the only one who has suffered," he whispered and his voice hitched, "I am the only one who has truly experienced what it means to suffer."

My voice was soft and contained, but the way it came through my lips made him listen. "And don't you ever think for one second that your own sufferings should be placed over another's"

I believed he had been through so much more than I had. I believe he had suffered more than I would ever know. But that didn't give him the right to rate his suffering 'more important' than anyone else's when he had not felt their pain.

"And don't you ever think for one second that you're the only one who has suffered," I repeated his line back to him, like a slap in the face, "But you know… You can't measure suffering. Because it will always depend on the person. Sure, a two year old finding their pet, dead, in the middle of a road would cause them suffering. And that suffering would look like nothing next to a twenty year old who finds a loved one, also dead, in the middle of the road. But, how much suffering is that little kid able to take compared to a twenty year old? How much better can the twenty year old cope simply because he has had time for his own experiences to wear and tear and teach him how to move on. A two year old doesn't know that yet. This could be their first time suffering ever. Would you put the pain of a first suffering below the loss of a loved one just because one seemed more significant? Or would you realize that the child has not felt this much pain before and realize that, in their life, this is the worst they've seen. Suffering shouldn't be compared by the deed, but by the victims own breaking point. But the point is, we've all suffered as much as we can take. Every single one of us has suffered to an extent and it's not up to any one person to try and put it all in order. We've all been there and we're all stronger because of what we've been through. And everyone is just waiting for the day when everything starts to get better..."

There was silence for a minute and I finally heard Francis' breaking voice, "Deym, you are wise beyond your years."

"I think I'll call it a night," I choked back and left the room.

I went down the murky hallway until I came to my room. I plopped down on the thin, dirty mattress, covered my face with the comforter, and from the bottom of the deep black hole of my chest, I sobbed.

There was no reason behind the tears, but that didn't stop them from coming.

Though I hadn't truly seen the meaning of suffering, I was at my own breaking point.

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**review please :D**


	14. Chapter 14

sorry i havent updated in a while. but, here's the next chapter!  
as always, read, review, enjoy. :D

* * *

When you see my evil smile  
It's the one that you'll remember  
When I am not so kind  
Can't you see that this is death?  
And death is saving me  
I say burn all of your bridges  
While you still have control of the flame  
_-Over by Evans Blue_

_

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_

**Chapter 14  
Rebellion Against Yourself**

"Deym… Will you do something for me?"

"Sure."

"Kill them?"

"Sure."

* * *

Time started to all blend together. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, months to years… I had no idea how to tell how much time had passed, but I had a feeling that in reality, it was a much shorter time than what I thought. But there was one thing I knew…

Marik wasn't coming back.

I was slowly becoming numb to his disappearances. No matter how hard I had worked in the past to keep what was left of our family together, nothing was changing. I was still losing everything. And I was tired of losing.

Francis became the only family I knew. I couldn't force myself to ever be angry with him, no matter if I wanted to or not. I couldn't be mad at the only person who didn't leave. I couldn't be mad at the only person who hadn't left my side.

And living life with a person like Francis went hand-in-hand with walking a path of destruction. I didn't realize it, but Francis controlled me now more than he ever had before. He only needed to say the word and it would be done. No matter his motive, I would do anything. Even kill.

Over the endless time, I lost more and more of myself and found more and more of the dark person I was becoming. It wasn't a pretty picture, but it was who I was now. I had made myself up to be this shadow of who I used to be and it labeled who I had become. And that was who I intended to be. I was going to be someone I never thought possible. I was going to do things I never thought I would ever do.

And in doing these things, I was going to rebel against myself.

* * *

I slowly drew my Tonfas and let the blades slide into their offensive position. Smirking, I watched from the canopies as the hikers settled below. The victim was being watched from a bird's eye view and they sat out in the open, totally unaware.

I climbed down without making a sound and hunched down on the lowest tree branch. The hikers let their bags drop to the ground. One began making a fire while the others chatted about what tomorrow had in store for them.

I pulled my cloak hood up so it shrouded my face and I dropped from the trees, landing in a crouch only a few feet from the hikers. The three men looked up, surprised, and one stumbled backwards. I slowly came up from my crouch and let my hands fall so the Tonfas were in plain sight.

"You know," I grinned wickedly, "It's dangerous to be out in the woods at night."

"Look, Kid," the biggest one huffed, "We're not gonna go running home to mommy because a little punk has a few knives, got it? Now scram before I beat your head in."

I let out a low chuckle, "Oh, sir, I'd _love_ to see you try."

"Is that a challenge?" He snapped back. This man was obviously short tempered.

I shrugged, "Maybe."

The scruffy man grunted and pulled out a dagger from his boot. He held it up near his face—a fighting stance. I shifted my weight and held a hand out to him.

With a flick of my wrist, I urged him on, "Make my day."

He lunged at me and I spun out of the way. His speed couldn't match mine and he stumbled forward when his full-out swing missed completely. As he was regaining balance, I lightly kicked his foot so it collided with the other and tangled under his body. He fell to the ground and grunted in frustration. He looked up at me with wild eyes and I threw my hands up in innocence.

"I barely touched you," I admitted, "You need some work if I can K.O. you because you tripped."

"K.O?" He sneered, "I don't think so!"

He jumped to his feet and charged for me. As he approached, I jumped up onto the lowest tree branch and watched as he fell forward, once again taken off guard from missing his target.

I swung on the branch, "Come on. You're not even making it fun."

He jumped under me and swiped his knife in the air, trying to reach me as I sat safely above his head.

"Aw," I pouted, "Now it's like you're not even trying."

As he landed, I slid off the branch. I used his head as a stepping stone and landed on a boulder behind him.

"Ok," I wiped my hands on my pants, getting all the tree sap off, "I'm done playing now."

With one swift motion I shoved my Tonfas into the man's chest and let him fall to the ground. As I let him fall, his two friends pulled out knives and were charging me. Sighing, I hurled my Tonfas and took them both out as a blade went through each of their hearts.

I walked over and yanked my Tonfas from the lifeless bodies.

"Well, it's been a pleasure, but I'm afraid I can't play anymore. I'm just a kid, you know. Gotta get home before curfew. You understand, don't you?"

* * *

I picked the lock and was inside the house before I had time to have second thoughts. Tonfas drawn, I walked into the little office room to see a man frantically writing something on a paper.

He looked up when he heard my footsteps. His eyes focused on my weapons and then widened as if he recognized me.

"No," he whispered, "Not yet. They sent you, didn't they? They sent you! Don't kill me! I swear I didn't mean any harm when I told them how to find where the families were hiding!"

I frowned, "My fine fellow, I was not sent by anyone. I work for no man."

"Then… then why are you here?" he demanded, standing up in panic.

"Well, to be honest with you, I'm here to kill you," I examined my fingernails as an empty habit and then began chewing on my pinky nail.

"W-why?" he stuttered.

I shrugged and leaned on the door frame, "Does the reason matter? No matter the reason, you're still going to die."

"But I've done nothing wrong," he challenged as if he could barter for his life.

I frowned, "But when I first came in here, you thought I was an assassin, no? And if someone would hire to kill you, wouldn't that mean you have done something wrong?"

"I've done no wrong to _you_," the man corrected himself and swallowed nervously, "Look, I ratted out a guy for money. You see, my family is starving and I'm barely hanging onto my job. I'm just trying to make ends meet, you know? I've got a little girl and I just want the best for her. I can't give her that if we continue living like we are now. Cant you understand that?"

"That's a cute story," I nodded and walked over to the man, "But, unfortunately, I have no sympathy left to waste on you."

And with that, I plunged the blade through his chest.

* * *

"Ha," the woman faked a laugh, "I knew he'd never face me like a man."

I pretended like she hadn't spoken and drew my Tonfas.

"Frannie sent you, right? Don't lie, I know he did. And it's okay. I knew he'd eventually send someone to do his dirty work. That's just like Frannie—keeping his hands clean," she seemed amused.

I interrupted before she could continue rambling, "You talk too much."

"Yeah," she shrugged, surprisingly calm, "But before you kill me, I have a message for you."

"I'm no messenger boy," I countered, just as calm.

"Yeah, but it's an easy message," she tossed a hand in the hair, "Just tell Frannie that Liza said hey."

"Ok," I rolled my eyes, "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"Oh, he will," she corrected, "Out of all of us he's sent you to kill, I'd bet my life that I was his favorite. Well," she stood up and walked over to me, "Let's get this over with."

I took out my blade and thrust it toward her.

Before my blade reached her, she caught my wrist.

"You didn't really think I'd just _let_ you kill me, did you?" she seemed to giggle as she yanked out a long, thin blade.

She jabbed her elbow into mine and I felt it pop out of place. Grunting, I popped it back into place and flipped my Tonfas into a defensive position. Every swing she made clashed against the blades of my Tonfas. I watched her as she thrust her blade toward me and, thinking on my feet, I angled my Tonfas so her blade stabbed between the double blades. Before she could pull her sword free, I jerked my arm to the side and her sword bent around my blade. She yanked against it, but couldn't pull free.

I pulled my arm up and she stumbled after her sword. I pulled out my armed hand.

She didn't even have time to scream before the blade sliced through her neck.

* * *

I pressed myself against the wall and watched silently as my target walked. I slid out my Tonfas and let their weight pull my hands down. A comfortable weight. As soon as he passed, I quickly pulled him back and forced my blade to his neck.

"Shut up," I told him, "Don't make a sound."

He grunted and quickly slammed his foot into my knee. My knee bent backwards and I collapsed. He turned on me, a sudden set of Tonfas in his hands, and slammed his arms down into me.

I yanked my hands over my head in time for our Tonfas to clash. He pulled back and slammed his blades harder over my own. I clenched my teeth together as I heard metal crack.

My Tonfas fell in shards from my hands and I was left defenseless on the ground. I scooted back, dragging my hurt leg on the ground. I scrambled back but it was a lousy attempt at an escape.

He caught me in one stride and, smirking, he pulled out a knife and shoved it through my knee. I gasped in pain, but didn't cry out. I pulled the knife out of my knee and chucked it at his leg. It cut through his jeans and made a streak against his leg, but not enough to phase him.

He let out a laugh and closed the distance between us. He held the blade over my chest and let it hang there. He expected me to beg for my life. Too bad for him, I wasn't going to.

He threw down the blades at me with a tremendous force and all I could do was throw my hand up in a weak attempt to protect myself.

_Don't die!_

…that voice…

The sound of metal clashing almost sent me into shock. I wasn't expecting that. I was expecting death. I opened my eyes and was a sword extending from my hand. It was a black blade with a dark blue blade spiraling around it. The handle was curved and what looked like waves came out as a hand guard. I knew what it was. A Keyblade. I had used one once before…

"_Reckless Nocturne"._ The words hit me softly and I knew that was the name made for the blade.

The man was in just as much shock as I was. He stood there, almost lifeless, and watched as the clash broke his Tonfas into pieces. He began to backpedal, but I gathered my thoughts faster than he did.

I quickly thrust the sword through him before he had time to get away.

* * *

Axel, Roxas, Bruixe, and Demyx all sat together around a table eating their choice of chips. They had all thrown a few at each other but then savored most as if they hadn't eaten in weeks.

"I'm going to—"Axel began, but was awkwardly cut off.

By a knife.

Demyx yanked a knife from his boot and hurled it at Axel who was making his way to the door. Axel grunted as the knife cut into his shoulder blade. Axel yelled a curse and tore the knife out of his skin.

"Demyx?" Bruixe gasped, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

She and Roxas both went to Axel's side to see how deep the cut was.

"What was THAT?" Axel roared at Demyx and then spit out a few curses.

"Demyx, why would you—" Roxas began but stopped when he looked back at his friend.

Demyx was standing with a wide, dark smirk on his face. He lifted his foot up and took out a knife from his boot. Still smirking, he hurled it in Roxas' direction. Roxas ducked at the last second and the knife stuck into the wall where Roxas' head had been seconds before.

"DEMYX!" Bruixe screamed—a command for him to stop.

"Look at his eyes," Axel noticed.

Demyx stood tall, reaching for another knife. The wicked smirk still spread wide over his usually gentle face. His eyes were drowned in black. They were like pits of swirling darkness and had lost their color and emotion. The darkness that radiated from him was unnatural.

Demyx flipped his knife and began charging for Axel. He threw his arm forward and the knife just began breaking skin when Bruixe stepped between the two the shoved Demyx back. Demyx fell on the ground and began reaching for another weapon.

"Not today, Waterboy," Bruixe growled and tackled him to the ground.

Demyx struggled under her grip but she threw a knee to his groin and stopped his struggling. He seemed to roar in pain and then continued to thrash against her.

"Demyx!" she screamed at him, "Knock it off!"

His eyes flickered to blue for a second, but then they were once again lost in the black.

"Demyx!" she screamed again, "You want to hurt Axel? Go ahead!"

He thrashed and she let him up.

"Kill him!" She sneered, "If you _can_!"

"Bruixe!" Roxas snapped, "what are you doing?"

Bruixe ignored him.

_Demyx wont hurt Axel, _she promised herself, _it's not in him. He won't—he _**can't**_—do it…_

The monster roared and growled. He focused on Axel and began charging again. Roxas took a nervous step closer and readied himself for the possibility that he may have to fight his friend. Why would Bruixe just let him loose like that?

He pulled out another knife and held it up in an attack position. The dark eyes looked at Axel with distain, and then Demyx's eyes flickered from the knife back to Axel.

His feet shuffled to a sudden stop. Demyx's eyes returned to normal at the iris and he dropped his arm to his side.

Like his own body was rebelling, his arm rose with the knife drawn. It began a throwing motion, the knife aimed at Axel. Demyx's other hand grabbed the reckless one. He held his own hand and beat it back.

The last bit of darkness faded from his eyes and his hand dropped the knife as if it were a poison. He collapsed on the ground, his eyes watering and his expression in shock.

Had he really just tried to kill his best friend?

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**review please. :D**


	15. Chapter 15

**first off, i would like to do a SUPER APPOLOGY for my long, long, long break of i'm-not-going-to-update-ness. thanks for sticking it out.  
read and PLEASE REVIEW! lol. :D**

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**Chapter 15**

**Forever and Always**

"leave me alone  
i am not an angel yet..."  
_not an angel--by City Sleeps_

* * *

"Deym," Francis' voice began to rise.

I looked away, my expression set.

"I said no," I spat through clenched teeth.

"I heard you the first time," he rolled his eyes, "But I still don't understand why. She doesn't even love you, you know."

"I don't believe that," I answered softly.

"Don't you?" he quizzed, "I doubt that! All that talk about how she abandoned you and betrayed you and your brother. She practically let me take you both away. All that 'fate' and 'destiny' she talks about is a load of bull, and you know it. I bet she never cared for any of you. That's why she never tried to get you back."

"Shut up," he laid his hand on my shoulder and I pulled it back roughly, "I never asked you. I don't think that's the whole truth."

"But, you admit it is truth. If not the whole truth, it is still_ part_ of the truth," he countered.

I swallowed, "Yes."

"Then do it," he ordered again, "Just kill her."

* * *

Coming back to my old house was kind of strange. And passing my father's general store was harder than it should have been. I didn't dare go inside because there was a chance I would see his rotting body. I doubted anyone had touched it since the town was destroyed. And then seeing my own house, rundown with busted windows, was a sight.

I knew Mom wouldn't go anywhere. She probably just came back here after she lost us and lived on her own. For a second I wondered how hard that probably was for her… but then I remembered that I didn't care.

I held my hand out and, with a flash of navy, Reckless Nocturne came to my hand. I held the sword close and creaked open the door. The house looked somewhat clean on the inside—at least, cleaner than the outside. The carpets were a little dusty, but other than that it looked the same as it did in my childhood. I was surprised everything was so well kept.

I saw a figure lying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. I knew it was Mom. Her hair was long and graying, it was pulled back into a loose bun and stray strands were falling around her face. My mom wasn't very old, but she was always a worrier. That's probably how her hair grayed so fast.

I walked silently to my sleeping mother and held my sword high above her heart. I swallowed hard, trying to prepare myself for what had to be done.

Before I could strike, she coughed and squinted up at me, "…D-Deym?" she croaked. It was obvious she was sick. Maybe even sick enough to be on her deathbed.

"Yes," I answered her simply.

"You've come… to kill… me?" she asked, weak.

"Yes," I answered again.

"Why?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"It's an order," I responded.

"That Man?" She frowned, "You're still following him?"

"Yes," I huffed as she judged me.

"He didn't send you to kill me, Deym," she told me softly.

I winced, "Don't try and beg for your life!"

"I'm not," she shook her head slowly.

"Why did you leave us?" I demanded, "Why did you just let us go? It's not fair what you did. You just gave up on your family…"

"No, Deym," she smiled at me weakly, "I did what I had to. To save her."

"Who?" I snapped. Though, I wasn't sure why I should care.

"Deym, when you left me, what you didn't know was that I was pregnant. I had to protect your sister. I knew Marik had been struggling with darkness and I knew I had to let him go. I knew he would blame Pleo for everything and I was afraid of what he might do."

"What do you mean?" I spit out, confused.

"Your sister, Pleo, is the Purest Heart. She has great power within her heart. And That Man came to destroy it. He came to kill Pleo. That day he came, he thought that Pleo hadn't been conceived yet, so he killed your father so he could stop Pleo from ever being born. And somehow, now he has figured out that Pleo was conceived before he killed your father. Or maybe he thinks that Pleo was conceived with another man and he sent you to kill me and with me, Pleo. I'm not sure, but he didn't send you to kill me. He sent you to kill your sister. She is a threat to him," Mother smiled gently.

"My sister… she's stronger than Francis?" I asked slowly.

Mom nodded.

"Where is she?" I ordered.

Mom turned her glance behind me. I turned and saw a small child peeking out from behind a chair. She had blond hair that was tied back into two tails and big, bright blue eyes.

"Do you think I'm a fool?" I sneered, "You can't tell me Francis is threatened by a child!"

"She isn't stronger physically," Mom explained, "But her heart is. She has a very strong heart. It's strong enough to call out through the darkness."

_The voice…_

"Did… did she save me?" my voice came out a whisper.

Mom smiled, "It wouldn't surprise me."

"She… She reached out to me when I lost my heart… She saved me…" I looked at her in awe.

"You see, Deym? I had no choice. It's not that I _wanted _to let you go, I didn't. I had to let you go. Marik, I knew he would blame Pleo for everything. Francis came for _her_. I was afraid that I'd lose her if I didn't let Marik go. I love Marik, I always will no matter what. But, I couldn't hold him back and just leave what actions he may or may not take to chance. You see? and that's why I had to let you go, too. I knew you'd come back one day. I knew you'd protect Marik and then you'd come back. No matter the reasons, you're here now. And I need you to take care of Pleo."

I stared blankly at her. Was this like, her 'last wish'? I found tears pressing against my eyes. Mom never wanted to abandon us. And now, she was leaving the last hope in my hands.

I shook my head, "No. I can't. I won't."

"Deym," she begged, "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. I know you've been in darkness… it radiates from your very being… but Pleo will not be a burden for you. I think… I pray… that Pleo will be able to bring your smile back, Deym. And, if you give her the chance, I know she can."

"Pleo is like some savior, right?" I took a few steps away, "You can't do this to me. You can't leave the last hope for mankind in my hands."

Mom gave a weak smile, "You're her angel, Deym."

"No!" I practically screamed, "Don't do this! Don't put everything in my hands! I don't want it! I don't want to be responsible for the end of the world just because I can't control the darkness within me. I'll fall. I know I will. Even if I come out of the darkness now and live by light, that doesn't mean I won't ever fall back into it. Leave me alone. I'm no angel."

Mom gave me a frown, but it looked like she was joking around, "So serious all the time now? Don't worry so much, Deym."

I tore my eyes away from her, "I'm not the same person I was seven years ago."

"I think you are," she disagreed, "I think the Deym I know is still in there somewhere. And I know that Deym will do the right thing. He always does."

Slowly, I knelt beside her, "I'm sorry… for everything. Maybe if I hadn't done the things I did, we wouldn't even be in this position. I shouldn't have left you. I shouldn't have kept following Francis… but, Mom, I can't help feeling like something terrible is going to happen. And I think I'm going to be the cause of it."

"Let the cards fall where they want to, Deym," she smiled, "But once the cards are down, you have two options. You can fold, sit back, and watch the hands play out… or, you can go all in and play your heart out."

I couldn't help but smirk, "You're comparing my life to poker?"

"Well, you've gambled enough of it away," she compromised and I couldn't disagree, "But, you still have chips in front of you. You're not out yet."

I nodded, that's all I could do.

"Only you can save Pleo's heart, Deym. You must understand that," she spoke softer and I saw the color drain from her face. She was dying.

"Save her heart? You mean protect it? How can I? How can my heart be strong enough to save the Purest Heart when it's not even strong enough to save yours?" I begged her to tell me the answers.

"You cant blame yourself for my death. I'm sick, that's all there is to it. And I know you'll find a way. You always do," she promised.

"This doesn't make any sense. I don't know what I have to do. Pleo still _has_ her heart. It's not like it's gone," it was like I had all the answers, but I had none of the questions.

"Pleo has her heart now, but she wont always," she explained.

"What do you mean?" I asked desperately. I could see the breaths she took grow shorter and further apart. I couldn't do this without her. Not while I was so lost in the darkness.

"Deym, keep Pleo safe. Don't let her heart be taken by darkness. She is young. Her heart is light. She won't assume someone is lying to her. She sees the best in people. She will not hesitate to follow someone who acts nice. She will not hesitate to follow your brother," she breathed out hard as she gave as much information as she was able.

"What if I can't save her? What if my heart's not strong enough? What if her heart _is_ taken," I asked quickly, "My heart isn't strong enough to bring her back."

"Deym, you have more light in you than you realize. Before the darkness, you were carefree. You smiled all the time. You laughed and cheered others up. You have always and will always be strong enough..."

And with that, Mom took her final breath.

I felt a tear falling down my face. Now it didn't feel like Mom was the one who abandoned me. it was me who had abandoned her. I had no choice now. I _had_ to protect Pleo. I owed it to my mother… and myself.

"D-Deym?"

I turned at the sound of a small, trembling voice. The little girl, Pleo, was standing behind me, a shaking hand reaching out to me. Her hand pulled back, as if she were afraid of me.

I couldn't really blame her. I knew I looked like a 'dark and scary man' to her.

She seemed to gain confidence and she stepped forward. She tripped forward and stumbled into my legs, grabbing my cloak for support. She looked up at me, afraid of my reaction.

My heart went out to her. It was like she captured me in her big, innocent blue eyes. I couldn't help but love her.

I knelt down beside her and helped her back on her feet. Smiling, she held out a small, metal heart-shaped locket. I looked at the tiny picture inside the heart. It was a family picture from seven years ago. My dad and mom stood side-by-side and then Marik and I in front of them. We were all smiling.

"Family," Pleo pointed to her heart, "You and Me," she giggled—the way only six-year-olds can—and then pointed to my heart.

I nodded, closed the locket and tied it back at her neck, "Yes. Forever and always."

Pleo peeked around me and looked at the couch, "Mama?"

I shook my head, "No, she won't be coming with us." Pleo nodded sadly, as if she understood what had happened.

I stood back up and Pleo slipped her hand into mine.

* * *

**yay! pleo is in the story now!  
isnt this exciting? lol.  
alright, please review! i really would like to know what you guys think. please!**

**KAZOO! :D  
**


	16. Chapter 16

sorry... it took me forever, but i got another chapter up... forgive me?  
**JOELLE**: at the end there is a little bit i put in for you... just remember that thing i started writing and then had you finish. the thing with bruixe and remembering her friends and whatnot. i hope you like it. it's pretty cute.

**read and review please :D**

* * *

Twenty four oceans  
Twenty four skies  
Twenty four failures  
Twenty four tries  
Twenty four finds me  
In twenty-fourth place  
Twenty four drop outs  
At the end of the day  
Life is not what I thought it was  
Twenty four hours ago

_-24 by Switchfoot_

* * *

**Chapter 16**

**Where I Am Now**

Okay, I knew it was a bad idea. I mean, what on earth would make me think it even had the potential of being a good idea? But, for whatever reason, i was waltzing up to the place I knew Francis would be with Pleo right behind me. I looked down at her as I pulled her through the dark dungeon I used to call home. Her eyebrows were pulled down, fierce. Okay, i know fierce is probably not the word you would use to describe a six year old. But, that's really what she looked like. She held onto my cloak and followed me with quick, sure steps. Never once faltering.

Was this the same clumsy, sweet little girl I had met only a few hours ago?

We reached the big wooden door that would lead me into the room I knew Francis would be. I took a few deep breaths and reached for the handle.

"Deym," Pleo took my attention, her little-girl voice shook, "The darkness," her index finger pointed at the door, and then pointed up at my chest, "It...matches."

I swallowed. Looks like the darkness in Francis is the darkness in me, too.

"Are you scared?" I asked, looking down at her, "You don't have to go with me."

She looked at the door, then back at me, "I'm not scared. At least, not as scared as you."

Great. This girl knew how to identify darkness, light, _and _every type of emotion known to man.

I looked away and pushed open the door. Pleo, hiding behind me, followed until I stoped. About six feet away, Francis was standing with his back to me.

"So," his voice seemed softer, older, "What brings you back to me?"

"I'm leaving," I announced, "Forever this time."

He chuckled and slowly turned, "Forever? That's a long time."

"Exactly," I shifted my weight, "But before I go... I wanted some answers."

"I've given you everything," he insisted, "What more could you possibly take from me?"

"I want to know... a few years ago when I woke up--or, whatever it is I did--you tensed up. Like you _knew_ the reason behind me coming back."

"Yes," he nodded, "But that's not much of a question."

"Tell me," I slowly stepped to the side, revealing Pleo, "Was it because of her?"

Francis' yellow eyes flaired, "She lives?"

Pleo cowered behind me as her eyes met his.

"My mother is dead. But I did not kill her. Did you send me to kill my mother or the Purest Heart?" I snapped.

"That girl!" Francis sneered, ignoring me completely, "Is a witch!"

Pleo winced as he cursed her.

"Bite your tongue!" I growled, "She is my sister and the reason why I'm giving up the darkness."

Francis laughed, "You can't just up and _walk away_ from darkness, boy! It lives in you!"

"Not anymore," I stated, firm.

"So, tell me," He folded his hands in front of him, "Do you think the light will want someone like you? Think of what you've done, Deym. Why do you think you've been in darkness so long? It's because you belong there!"

"No," the voice was soft, but it was firm at the same time. I looked down to see Pleo, clutching my cloak but staring Francis in the eye, "Deym doesnt belong in darkness. Deym belongs with me."

"How cute," Francis glared at her fiercely, "A pathetic orphan wants a family. Why don't you stay out of this? Little girls should not concern themselves with matters of dark and light."

In that moment, I was not sure what happened. One second, Pleo was a small girl trying to keep her brother with her. The next, she was the Purest Heart. Light poured out of Pleo and her eyes turned to a shining gold--brighter than Francis.

"No," her voice now mature and strong, she stepped between Francis and me, "I will not let you take him. You may belong in darkness, but Deym will never belong there. Just because he has been in the darkness, does not make it his home. Deym will choose his own way and his own destiny. And you will not stand in his way!"

Francis, shielding his eyes, fell to the ground. He cowered and hid his face, ashamed. Pleo slowly returned to normal, her bright blue eyes looking up at me timidly. Slowly, I tore my eyes from Francis and Pleo latched onto my cloak.

"I think it's about time we leave," I mumbled and led Pleo out the way we had came.

* * *

"Deym! You're home!" I turned and saw Marik, eyes crinkling as he smiled.

"Marik?" i stared at him in disbelief. He was here? He was with Francis?

"I came back," he told me, smiling, "I was tired of our family being broken. I... I want to fix it, Deym."

"Then come with me," I extended a hand to him, beaming.

"Go?" his eyebrows pulled down with confusion, "But I just came home. How could we possibly leave?"

I shook my head, "This isn't home, Marik. I saw mom again. We got it all wrong... She didn't leave us. We left her."

Marik backed away from me, "No."

My hand fell to my side as his face turned hostile, "Marik? You want to fix our family, right? We can do it. We'll live together. Away from here. Me, you, and... our sister."

"She's alive?" Marik sneered.

My eyes widened in surprise, "You know about her?"

He looked to the ground, digusted, "Francis told me everything. I thought he sent you to kill her!"

Instinctively, I tucked Pleo into my side and backed her away from Marik.

Marik peeked around me, "You brought her here!"

"Of course," I defended, "She's family."

"She," He spat, "Is not my family. She is a monster!"

Pleo winced.

"Don't talk about her that way," I inturrupted before he continued, "You're only scaring her."

"Good! Then maybe she'll leave!" He snapped.

"Marik," I glowered, "Why would you say...?"

"Because," he looked away from me, "Don't you understand? It's her fault, Deym. All those invasions, all those dark people--not just Francis, but hundreds of others... They were destroying worlds... because of her. They wanted to kill her, not us. It's her fault our family is dead and our world in ruins. If she wasn't in existance then none of this would have happened."

I stared at him. Maybe this was true...

"I'm not going to kill her, Marik," I told him.

"Why not?" he looked back up at me, "It'd be the closest thing to good you've ever done."

I grew defensive, "What would killing her prove? It would just make our parents' deaths in vain. Mom died protecting her. Dad died protecting her. Yeah, maybe if she didn't exist things would still be okay and we'd still be a family. But, guess what Marik, she _does_ exist. Taking her life will not bring anyone back. It wont turn back time. You can't blame her for existing, Marik. There is nothing wrong with existing. It's not like she _chose_ to exist. She just _is_. And it's not my right or anyone elses to take her life away from her. Telling her not to exist is like telling the sun not to shine."

"Why," Marik finally spoke, softly, "Why did she have to exist? What made her existance have to be?"

"Darkness," I answered slowly, "Darkness made her. So much darkness... To have darkness, you must have light. It has to balance. Darkness exists. Therefore, so does light. Because of us... she has to exist."

Marik reached behind him and pulled out a sword that swung from his belt, "And because I exist, she has to die."

Marik lunged at me and I dodged effortlessly. I swung Pleo up so she was on my shoulders and then backed away.

"I won't fight you, Marik," I told him slowly, backing away from his sword.

"I don't want to fight you," he spat, "I want to kill her."

Envy swirled through me as I stared at Marik with distain. He didn't even want to try. He was so mad at everything, he refused to see any good. Hate rising inside me, I drew my own keyblade. Reckless Nocturne.

But as fast as the flashes of navy arrived, they left.

_"Use a keyblade for darkness, lose your right to bear a weapon of light."_

An upbeat voice scholded me.

I tried to summon my blade again, with no success.

"This way," I turned to see Pleo standing in a shining white doorway.

I glanced back at Marik and then to Pleo. Leaving my brother behind, I quickly followed my sister.

* * *

I pulled my knees to my chest and glanced over at Pleo, who was sitting in the same position. I glanced out into the ocean and stared at an island that wasn't too far off the coast.

"So," I started, "What made you bring us here?"

She shook her head, "I didn't do anything."

"Then... How did we get here?" I asked, turning towards her.

She shrugged, "I wanted a way out... and then the door apeared. I guess we're just lucky."

"Are you... okay?" I asked, noticing her frown and far off look.

"I miss mom," she said softly, "She... she didn't like it either."

"Didn't like what?"

"When I did things like that," Pleo explained, "You know, like what I did when That Man was trying to pull you back to the darkness."

"I never said I didn't like it," I defended myself.

"You didn't have to," Pleo sighed, "Mom never said that either. But you got that same look on your face... Like, you were afraid of what I do."

"What you do..." I repeated, "You glow? Are you like, a star or something?"

She smirked and then explained, "I don't... know what I'm doing. It just... happens. It's like instinct. It wasn't that mom didn't like it, it's just that she didn't understand it. And I don't think anyone really does. It's just... me."

I didn't respond, I just looked back out at the island floating in the distance.

"Does it bother you?" Pleo asked, pulling herself into a tighter ball, "Me existing. Me being who I am. Me being me?"

I thought for a moment and then leaned back on my elbows, "Naa."

She looked up at me.

"You should just be you. Doesn't matter to me. I mean, I'll get used to that glowing thing. We're on the same side now... so let's just play it out," I decided.

"Play out what?" she asked.

"Life," I shrugged, "Who knows what going to happen? Let's just make it what we can. Play it out."

She nodded, "I think that's a superb idea."

"Superb?" I looked at her and coked an eyebrow, "You even know what that word means? Gosh, there is no way you're only six."

She smiled wide, her eyes closing naturally, "Just being me."

"Well," I ruffled her hair, "Then I guess I'll have to learn to live with it."

"Look," She pointed out at the sun setting out over the crystal ocean.

"Sunset," I nodded, "I haven't seen one in a while."

"Not just that..Fire and water... so different and separated all the time... But then for a few seconds every day, they blend together," she looked up at me and smiled, "I don't think they're as opposite as everyone thinks. I think... in reality... they need each other."

Something in me tugged at my heart and I found myself smiling, "You know... I think you're right."

I let myself smile. For the first time in years, I let my emotions come. Everything had changed so fast. Finding Pleo, turning away from Francis, and then leaving my brother behind. It was hard to believe this had all happened in the last 24 hours. I had made so many mistakes and failed so many times. But now my whole life had been flipped around. I now had a new mindset and a new reason for living. Life wasn't what I thought it was a few hours ago... It was something so much better.

Where I am now... Is so much better than where I was.

I found a place of peace as I sat with Pleo. And together, we watched those few moments when fire bleeds into water.

* * *

**hope you liked this chapter. **

**review please :D  
**


	17. New Sory is HERE!

**Goooooooood Neeeewwssss!**

**she's deaddddd! **

**lol. jk. sorry. Wicked moment there. (yay musicals.)**

**anyway, i am PROUD to announce that my new story is UP! It is called "Sacrifice" and it is set six years after A Worthless Nobody. **

**I'm sorry it's been so long. i really am. **

**But i love you all so much. **

**really. **

**i do.**

**for real.**

**please read it.**

**i promise the writing is better than this story.**

**so you all got it? new story. Sacrifice. check it out! :DDD**

**No Regrets.  
**

**::RockOnRose::  
**


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